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Book._ 

GopyrisM 0 _ 

COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT. 










































































I 























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0 








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The Author, 30 Years Ago 














PERILOUS TRAILS 
OF TEXAS 

BY 

J. B. (RED) JOHN DUNN' 

(Edited by Lilith Lorraine) y 


Published for the Author 
by the 


SOUTHWEST PRESS 

PUBLISHERS 

DALLAS, TEXAS 


CLo Ri- 






Copyright 1932 
J. B. John Dunn 


•> o 




o 


MAY 31 >932 ' ^r 

©C1A 51569 - 


To MY DAUGHTER, MRS. CLEVELAND WRIGHT, 
TO MY GRANDSONS, EaRL C. DuNN AND JOHN 
M. Dunn, and to the memory of my wife, 

THIS BOOK IS AFFECTIONATELY DEDICATED BY 
THE AUTHOR 



CONTENTS 


Foreword. 

CHAPTER PAGE 

I. My Early Life. 1 

II. After the Civil War. 10 

III. My Adventures Begin .... 19 

IV. I Work in the old Slaughter 

Houses .. 27 

V. With the Texas Rangers ... 35 

VI. Up the Trail to Kansas .... 47 

VII. A Horrible Crime. 59 

VIII. With Wallace's Company ... 68 

IX. With Wallace's Company— Cont. . 76 

X. The Mexican Raid.88 

XI. The Trip to the Sand .... 96 

XII. A Hot Time in Old San Pat . . 107 

XIII. Miscellaneous Adventures . . . 118 

XIV. My Later Life. 142 


Official Trail Names. 155 


IV 











EDITOR’S FOREWORD 


In presenting the memoirs of the oldest living 
pioneer of the Corpus Christi section I feel that 
the reader should be reminded that in practically 
every event narrated, the author was an actual par¬ 
ticipant. Without such a book as this, much of the 
authentic history of Southwest Texas would be lost, 
or would be sadly distorted by younger authors, who, 
regardless of the honesty of their intentions, must 
depend for their material upon indirect information, 
upon what has been told them, rather than upon what 
has been carefully and conscientiously compiled from 
facts by those who were present when the scenes 
herein related were enacted. 

Regarding the events described in these sketches, 
they have been related exactly as they occurred, told 
in the simple, direct style of the author, without any 
attempt to gloss them over, because the author has no 
apology to make. The reader, in order to understand 
many of the things that happened, must try to put 
himself in the place of the pioneers, in the place of 
the men who had the courage to go forth into an 
almost uncharted land and meet crude conditions 
with still cruder weapons. 

If we, their descendants, living in the midst of 
the comfort and the safety that they have wrested 


EDITOR’S FOREWORD 


vi 


from the untamed heart of nature and passed on to 
us to soften our lives and refine our sensibilities; 
have any word of condemnation to utter against 
them, the reflection falls not upon them but upon 
ourselves for our lack of understanding. Without 
them, we would not have been here, either to praise 
or to condemn. The very delicacy of sentiment that is 
ours, is only the flowerage of civilization upon the 
topmost branch of the sturdy tree that they planted 
in the soil of the wilderness and watered with blood 
and tears. Ours is the fragrance of the flower, but 
theirs was the toil that rooted it deeply in the slime 
and nurtured it through the assaults of the inexorable 
elements. 

It is in this spirit that the children of the pioneers 
and every reader of this book who reaps or squanders 
the heritage that they have given us should approach 
the threshold of those times when history was in the 
making. 

Not in the spirit of judging their actions by artifi¬ 
cial standards which in their day had no existence, 
but by asking ourselves if we in their places, should 
have acquitted ourselves as well, and by putting to 
ourselves the still more potent question: how well 
have we kept the birthright that they have given us, 
how well have we safeguarded the liberties that they 
purchased through untold privations, how courage¬ 
ously are we meeting the problems that confront us 
today; in short, when both we and they stand before 
the tribunal of a remote posterity, to whom shall the 
laurel be awarded, to the men who saw a wilderness 


EDITOR’S FOREWORD 


▼ii 

and cleared it, who faced chaos and brought forth 
order; or to us, who born in the midst of peace and 
plenty, now find ourselves floundering rather hope¬ 
lessly in the quagmires of political impotency and 
spiritual confusion. 

In presenting this book to the public, the author 
desires to pay tribute to the memory of the following 
men of outstanding character and of unfailing cour¬ 
age, without whose material support and moral 
encouragement, the rangers and those who took part 
in the events related in these memoirs would have 
been unable in many cases to accomplish what they 
did in making this section of the country safe for 
American civilization: T. Hines Clark, James F. 
Scott, Captain King, Martin Culver, Frank Biler, 
James Cody and William Cody. And to these men 
and to the rangers, early settlers and pioneers who 
cleared the dim and perilous trails of Texas that we 
may follow after in the light, the editor takes the 
liberty of dedicating the following poem: 


FOR MEN LIKE THESE 


For men like these, for men who planned 
And forged an empire out of sand 
And sun and sea; for men who raised 
A torch o’er chaos and who blazed 
The trail we tread; to them we bring 
Our most imperishable thing. 

For fleshless things alone can stand 
The surge of sea, the sweep of sand. 

When spires of men lay prone and still 
In heaps of dust upon a hill, 

The epic monuments we raise 
Shall tower above the eternal ways. 

What though beyond tomorrow’s brim 
The boundaries that they fixed may dim 
Before some planetary call 
Of “all for one and one for all;” 

Their foes may battle at our side 
To stem some more resistless tide 
Of evil sweeping in from night; 

This much we know: they fought the fight; 
Ours but to strive as well as they 
Against the foes that press today. 

For be the weapon steel or will 
The powers of darkness challenge still; 

And will is forged from sparks that light 
The battle-plain of wrong and right. 

And when men wonder why we stand 

viii 


FOR MEN LIKE THESE 


IX 


So few against the encroaching band 
Of hates that burn, of wrongs that freeze, 
We’ll answer back, “For men like these!” 

The children of the pioneers, 

Have time for dreams, but not for fears. 
Though night looms black and tempests shake, 
Yet morn will come and souls will wake; 

And ’twixt this darkness and that dawn, 

For men like these, ive carry on. 


Lilith Lorraine 









PERILOUS TRAILS 
OF TEXAS 


CHAPTER I 
My Early Life 

My Birth and Earliest Memories —I was born on 
the 18th of January, 1851, in the house that my 
father completed the same year, its construction 
having been commenced in 1850. At that time there 
was but one home, belonging to a Mr. and Mrs. 
Finley, between our place and the present town of 
Corpus Christi. This couple became my god-father 
and god-mother. From our place to old San Patricio, 
a distance of 28 miles, there was not a single house. 

It was customary in those days for people travel¬ 
ing back and forth to call at all the settlers’ homes 
along the road and exchange news with one another. 
As we were the only settlers along the route, we 
enjoyed a monopoly of the news. 

I can remember several instances in which we were 
told by travelers that they had seen Indians while on 
their way down. Such yarns would give me the 
“creeps” at night. 

One incident in particular made a deep impression 
on me. Some visitors stated that as they were coming 


2 


PERILOUS TRAILS OF TEXAS 


out of some timber close to Hart Lake in San Patri¬ 
cio County, they saw a bunch of about forty or fifty 
Indians over to their left. These Indians were coming 
out of the same timber and were going as fast as their 
horses could travel. At first the travelers thought 
that the Indians were after them, so they concealed 
themselves in the brush and awaited developments. 

However, when the Indians reached the lake, they 
rushed madly into the water, horses and all. There 
they all began drinking as though they were dying 
of thirst. Some of the horses could not get out and 
must have died in the lake. There was a drought and 
at that time the Nueces Rb er became quite salty for 
several miles above. 

There were several fights with Indians near Cor¬ 
pus Christi in those days. One was at the “Rincon,” 
the land between the present Turning Basin and the 
Causeway, another was at Chocolate Motts on the 
Oso, and a third at the San Jacinto Ranch. 

Short Sketch of My Father's Life —My father was 
born in the county of Kildare, Ireland. Of his early 
life I have no knowledge. When General Taylor’s 
army arrived in Corpus in September, 1845, my 
father accompanied it as a sutler. 

In the spring of 1846, the army advanced to a 
point on the Rio Grande opposite the Mexican town 
of Matamoras. On the 8th day of May it met and 
defeated the Mexican Army at Palo Alto and again 
defeated them at Resaca de la Palma on the 9th. On 


MY EARLY LIFE 


3 


the 18th day of May the American Army crossed the 
Rio Grande into Mexico. 

Before crossing the river, orders were issued that 
no civilians could accompany the army. As raw recruits 
were not being accepted, my father could not join 
the regular army, but was allowed to enlist as a 
teamster. 

All went well until the march on Saltillo. There 
the supply train that my father accompanied was 
attacked by a strong force of Mexican lancers. Most 
of the guards were killed or captured and all the 
drivers killed except my father and a man named 
Pritchett. 

After the massacre, my father acted as courier and 
dispatch bearer until the war was over. He then re¬ 
turned to Corpus Christi where he married my 
mother, whose name was Sarah Pritchett. She was 
a native of Missouri and always believed that the 
man Pritchett who escaped when my father did was 
a brother of hers, John Pritchett, from whom she 
had not heard for several years. But my father never 
saw the man again and never learned whether he was 
captured or not. 

Colonel Kinney, the founder of Corpus Christi, 
and a friend of my father’s, made him a proposition. 
He told him that if he would build a house of speci¬ 
fied dimensions, four or five miles west of Corpus 
Christi on the old San Patricio road, that he would 
give him a hundred acres of land. My father 
accepted the offer and built on the land, which is now 


4- 


PERILOUS TRAILS OF TEXAS 


owned by me, and which I have named Kinney Park 
in honor of Col. Kinney. 

As I mentioned before, there was but one house 
between our place and Corpus Christi, and from 
there on to San Patricio, a distance of twenty-eight 
miles, there was not a single house. 

When my father finished our house, he went to 
Gonzales and bought a few head of cattle from a 
man by the name of Zumolt. This man’s brand was 
a single “Z”. We adopted this as our brand and 
always used it. My father also engaged in farming. 

My Mothers Life —My mother was born in 
Green County, Missouri. She had four sisters: Caro¬ 
line, Martha, Eliza and Francis, and two brothers, 
John and David. David, the elder brother, settled in 
DeKalb, Red River County, Texas, and was post¬ 
master there for a number of years. His sister Caro¬ 
line made her home with him and his family until 
her death. My uncle John, I have mentioned before 
as having been believed by mother to be the other 
man who escaped from the supply train at Saltillo 
when my father escaped. 

My mother’s other sister settled in Gonzales 
County, Texas. My Aunt Martha married James 
Hodge of that county. Francis married W. S. Lowry 
of the same county. After her death Mr. Lowry 
married her sister Eliza. Many members of these 
families are still living in the same locality. 

When I was about four and a half years old, my 
father received a sun-stroke which deranged his 








L. Kinney, Founder of Jim Dunn (deceased), Brother of 

Corpus Christi the Author 



















MY EARLY LIFE 


5 


mind. As there was no asylum in this state at that 
time, he was sent to New Orleans, La. From there 
they claim that he was transferred elsewhere, but 
we were never able to locate him. 

After he was sent away, my mother remained on 
the old homestead and did the best she could for us. 
She had three children, Matt, James, and myself. I 
was the eldest and James was the youngest. 

When the Civil War began, our two uncles Hodges 
and Lowry came to Corpus Christi and moved us, 
our cattle, and everything to Gonzales. 

We had some amusing experiences after reaching 
there. To enable the reader to appreciate them I 
should explain that we had been raised in an Irish 
settlement w r here the Irish “brogue” was spoken. 
Never having heard anything else, we spoke it flu¬ 
ently. Therefore, we caused as much excitement in 
our new locality as a circus, especially among the 
“swamp angels” from the Guadalupe bottoms and 
the “hill billies” from the post oaks across the San 
Marcus River. 

They would come for miles on Sundays to hear us 
“chirp,” as they called it. Having arrived at the 
scene of the entertainment, one of them would say, 
“Stir them up, make them say ‘sumfin 5 ,” and when 
we responded they would throw back their heads and 
let yells that would cause a Comanche Indian to turn 
green with envy. This, however, is not intended as a 
reflection upon the people of that section in general, 
for some of the best people I have ever known lived 
there. If the “swamp angels” and “hill billies” that I 


6 


PERILOUS TRAILS OF TEXAS 


have mentioned had come to Corpus Christi, they 
would have caused as much excitement among the 
“shanty Irish” as we caused among them. It would 
have been on the same principle as the predicament of 
the fellow who was exhibiting a white moose. 

This showman had a sign pinned to the front of 
his tent which read, “Whole Families Admitted for 
One Dollar.” The first one to come in was an old 
farmer who had a large crowd following behind 
him. He paid his dollar and walked right into the 
tent while the ticket-seller was counting the crowd. 
When he came to number twenty-two, he sent an 
employee in to catch up with the old man and bring 
him back. The showman questioned him, saying, “Is 
all this your tribe?” “Yes sir,” replied the farmer. 
“Then go ahead,” said the showman, “It will be as 
big a treat for my moose to see them, as it will be 
for them to see the moose.” 

The Treatment of Father Padee —Another inci¬ 
dent worthy of mention happened at Gonzales a 
short time before we arrived there. It will give the 
reader an idea of how people act who are blinded by 
prejudice. 

There was a Catholic priest at Halletsville whose 
name was Father Padee. He was the priest who bap¬ 
tized me and I knew him very well. Once while on 
his way to San Antonio, he was delayed and had to 
stop overnight at Gonzales. The rumor was spread 
that there was a priest at the hotel, so a mob organ¬ 
ized which went and took him from his room. Then 


MY EARLY LIFE 


7 


the mob forced two negroes to put a rail on their 
shoulders on which they rode the unfortunate priest 
all over town abusing and insulting him in every 
possible manner. 

The “Lady” with the Hood —It was customary 
during war days for the people to crowd around 
the stage stand, called in those days the “Keyser 
House.” There one could get the first news. 

One day there were several passengers on the 
stage. Among them was a small-sized woman well 
dressed. She wore a small head-dress called in those 
days a “hood.” When she got off the stage, instead 
of going down the sidewalk, she started across the 
Plaza. An old “rube” was leaning against one of 
the posts watching her. He started to say something 
but had first to get rid of a quarter of a plug of 
tobacco that he had in his mouth. This operation 
completed, he remarked, “If that is not a man, you 
all can eat my hat.” 

One word brought on another, until at last two or 
three agreed with him and accompanied him to halt 
the alleged “lady.” They took “her” to the Guard 
House where some soldiers were stationed and sure 
enough “she” proved to be a man. 

The man then told his captors that he was Gen¬ 
eral McGruder’s ambulance driver on Galveston 
Island and that he was trying to get to Mexico. He 
was put in jail and that was the last I ever heard 
of him. 


8 


PERILOUS TRAILS OF TEXAS 


Thieves on Padre Island —In the year 1862, the 
Federal fleet was stationed at the old Corpus Christi 
Pass, which at that time was navigable only for 
small boats. The Federals were dependent for their 
meat supply upon a bunch of Mexican renegades 
and white traitors. These thieves would rob the 
people of their cattle and deliver the meat to the 
fleet. 

Captain Ware of the Confederate Army, who 
commanded a company here, took ten men and went 
to Padre Island to capture the thieves. When he 
came in sight of them, he found them strongly en¬ 
trenched in the sand hills, and saw that they had 
about 40 men. He called for a volunteer to go under 
a flag of truce to ask them to surrender. 

Lawrence Dunn Volunteers —Lawrence Dunn, 
who could speak the Mexican language well, vol¬ 
unteered to go. He tied a white handkerchief to 
the top of his gun barrel and rode over. He talked 
to them a few minutes and then turned his horse 
to ride back. 

Murdered Under a Flag of Truce —Some one in 
the bunch fired a shot. With that his horse began 
running and they saw him hanging on one side. His 
brother, Matt, and a few others rode out to meet 
him and helped him from his horse. He spoke only 
one sentence, a I had bad luck,” and then died. 

The Suspect and His Motive —White traitors 
who were in the bunch said that a Mexican named 


MY EARLY LIFE 


9 


Tom Basquez fired the shot. It seemed that Nicho¬ 
las Dunn, a brother of Lawrence Dunn, found 
this man driving a number of horses to town and 
in order to recover one of his own that had strayed 
in among them, he reprimanded the Mexican, 
threatening to have him arrested if he ever drove 
his horses out of the range. For this the Mexican 
had a grudge against Nicholas and those of his 
name. 

Basque % is Honored —After the war, Basquez 
was looked on as a patriot and was put on the police 
force. He is the same man whom the Pensecal mur¬ 
derers claimed to have originated the murder and 
robbery there, but although they swore to this tes¬ 
timony, I do not think the unpleasant subject was 
ever broached again. 


Note: At the time of Lawrence Dunn’s murder, he was suf¬ 
fering from a broken arm caused by a ball which he received 
during the bombardment of Corpus Christi by the federal fleet 
a short time previous. 



CHAPTER II 


After the Civil War 

A Clash with Wesley Hardin —John Wesley 
Hardin, the noted desperado, was living in Gon¬ 
zales County, when E. J. Davis, reconstruction gov¬ 
ernor of Texas, appointed a number of negro police. 
Among them was a blacksmith named John Lackey 
and another man named Green Parmore. Both lived 
in Gonzales County. 

One day they were sent out on Sandys Creek to 
arrest a white man. There was a small country store 
at the place called “Dan Foe’s.” When they went 
into the store, Hardin was sitting in a chair. On see¬ 
ing them, he asked, “Who the devil are you two?” 
Lackey spoke up saying, “We are policemen, we 
are!” Hardin said, “The hell you are!” and jerked 
out his pistol killing Parmore the first shot. There¬ 
upon Lackey jumped through the window, but be¬ 
fore he could make good his escape, Hardin shot 
him through the jaw, cutting his tongue in two. But 
he got away and hid in a pond of water where he was 
found and taken to Gonzales. There he recovered 
and lived for years afterward. 

After the killing of Parmore, the rest of the 
negroes went wild. The incident happened on 
10 


AFTER THE CIVIL WAR 


11 


Friday and on Saturday the negroes congregated 
around Lackey’s blacksmith shop swearing ven¬ 
geance. They were armed with all kinds of old rusty 
rifles that looked as if it would be impossible to 
knock the hammers down with a hammer. 

The mayor at that time was a German named 
Keyser. He sent some men to watch the hardware 
stores and took three men armed with shot guns 
over to the shop where the negroes were congre¬ 
gated. He then pulled out his watch and held it up 
to them saying, “You black devils have just fifteen 
minutes to get out of town.” They milled around 
for a moment or so and then an old negro on a 
mule started off in a trot that soon became a gallop 
and before the fifteen minutes were up, all had 
disappeared. 

We Return Home —After the war, we moved 
back to the old home in Corpus Christi. The town 
was a desolate looking place. It had suffered bom¬ 
bardment twice during the war and was badly shat¬ 
tered. There were several companies of negro sol¬ 
diers stationed there and the citizens were subject 
to all kinds of humiliation and insults from them. 
It was a common occurrence for them to walk into 
private homes and demand coffee or food. 

My Uncle has Visitors —One Sunday two of these 
negro soldiers went to the home of one of my 
uncles, John Dunn, living four miles west of town. 
They entered the house while the family was away 
at church and dressed themselves in some of the 


12 


PERILOUS TRAILS OF TEXAS 


boys’ clothing. They then armed themselves with 
some of the pistols from the place and left. 

When the family returned from church and 
found the strange guns and uniforms, they knew 
who had done the work. One of the boys, Matt 
Dunn, went to headquarters and reported the mat¬ 
ter to the officer in charge. He was quite insulting 
and denied flatly that it was any of his men. 

But next morning Matt got there before roll call 
and saw that two names were not answered. He 
called the officer’s attention to the matter, but the 
officer flew into a tantrum and still tried to deny 
that any of his men had taken part in the robbery. 
He told Matt that if he was so sure about the mat¬ 
ter to go and get the deserters and not to come 
bothering him about it. 

The Deserters are Captured —Matt then went in 
the direction of the present Causeway, thinking the 
negroes might have crossed the reef which was there 
at that time. When he got to the reef he found a 
fisherman who told him that he had seen the 
negroes about two hours before and that they had 
gone out on a peninsula that ran into the Nueces 
Bay and that he had not seen them since. 

Matt then went out on the peninsula and found 
them near its point. When they saw him coming 
they pulled out their pistols and told him to stay 
back. He ordered them to surrender, with which 
they began shooting at him. 

Matt opened fire on them, and when all his loads 


AFTER THE CIVIL WAR 


13 


were gone but one, he charged them and killed one 
of them. At that the other one ran into the bay and 
got bogged in the mud. Matt roped him and 
dragged him to the shore. There he tied his hands 
behind him and put the rope around his neck, driv¬ 
ing him ahead of him through town and into the 
barracks where he turned him over to the command¬ 
ing officer. This personage thereupon changed his 
tune. He was now all pie and politeness and could 
not think of enough apologies. 

More Visitors —About a month after that a cor¬ 
poral and four negro privates came to our house. 
There was no one at home but myself and my two 
brothers. The intruders entered with bayonets on 
their guns and asked us where the rest of the fam¬ 
ily were. We told them there was no one at home 
but ourselves. Then they asked our names and we 
told them it was Dunn. They said they wanted to 
see a man by that name bad. We offered to send one 
of the boys for him, but one of the negroes said, “I 
guess not!” 

Then they ordered us to “hustle around” and get 
them something to eat. We began getting in wood 
to make a fire and during these operations I whis¬ 
pered to my brother Matt and told him to jump on 
a horse and go after my cousin Matt. (The same 
one who had captured the deserters.) 

My brother had been gone only a few minutes, 
when one of the negroes asked, “Where is the other 
boy who was here?” “I guess he got scared,” I 
answered, “and ran off to the brush.” 


14- 


PERILOUS TRAILS OF TEXAS 


With that this negro winked at his companions 
and they all went outside into the chapparal. About 
fifteen minutes after they left, the two Matts 
rushed up on horseback armed with shot guns and 
pistols. They searched the brush about an hour but 
found no trace of the negroes and never heard of 
them afterwards. 

1867—The Yellow Fever —In the month of July, 
1867, a small vessel came into Corpus Christi from 
Tuspan, Mexico. She was loaded with bananas. The 
Mexicans on the boat loaded a dray with some of 
the fruit and sent the dray man to peddle it around. 
Almost every one who ate the fruit took the yellow 
fever. 

The first one to die was a blacksmith by the name 
of Drinkerd. He died that night shortly after eat¬ 
ing the bananas. 

At this time I was working in a hay camp down 
on the Oso Creek with Matt Dunn, (the same man 
mentioned in the previous sketch), and his two 
brothers, Pat and Joe. There was also a Belgian 
there named August Vandavell, who had been a 
member of Maximillian’s army in Mexico and who 
had fled with other ex-soldiers when Maximillian 
was captured. 

The evening after the banana boat came in, word 
came to camp that Christie Dunn, a brother of the 


Note: This Matt Dunn is the same man who was murdered 
at Petronilla, (see later sketch), and a brother of Lawrence 
Dunn who was murdered on Padre Island. 



AFTER THE CIVIL WAR 


15 


boys with whom I was working, had lost his wife 
and that he himself was in a dying condition. 

Upon hearing this, we broke camp and went to 
town. At that time Christie lived on the first corner 
south from the present location of the First State 
Bank. When we reached Corpus, we stopped our 
wagons across the street from Christie’s house in 
front of a store that had living rooms above it. The 
boys got out of the wagon and went into Christie’s 
house. 

The* man who owned the store was named Poland. 
We heard a noise on the porch upstairs and looking 
up, saw Poland come staggering out. He let out one 
of the most blood-curdling yells I have ever heard, 
and screamed, “Molly is dead!” Molly was his 
wife. For months afterward I could hear that 
scream in my sleep. 

A few minutes later some of the boys came out 
of Christie’s house and told us that Christie’s wife 
was dead and that they thought Christie was dying. 
By that time the fever was all over town. 

We returned to the ranch which was about four 
miles from town. That evening the Belgian, Aug¬ 
ust, and I came back and dug the grave for Chris¬ 
tie’s wife and next morning we had to open it to 
put Christie’s coffin on top of hers. By this time 
more of the family were down with the fever. 

The next day Joe Dunn died, and two days later 
his mother followed him. The following day Pat 
Dunn passed away. Four members of the family 
recovered. August, the Belgian, was the last of our 


16 


PERILOUS TRAILS OF TEXAS 


party to take the fever but he also died. In a short 
time there were 127 dead, a considerable number, 
if one takes into account the total population at that 
time. 

A Large Family —There were eight members of 
the particular Dunn family mentioned in this article. 
Their names were Christie, Nicholas, Pat, Matt, 
Lawrence, Mike, Joe and John. John was the 
youngest and is the only member of the family 
living at the present writing. Lawrence Dunn (see 
previous sketch) was murdered under a flag of truce 
during the Civil War and Matt Dunn (see later 
sketch) was murdered by the Mexican bandits at 
his ranch on Petronilla Creek. Pat and Joe died of 
the yellow fever and Mike and Nicholas died of 
other ailments. 

A Discharged Soldier Finds a Refuge —In the 
year 1865 and on the spot where the Nixon building 
now stands, there was a two-story building with 
dormer windows facing the bay. This building 
belonging to the Meuly family, was vacant. It had 
a large cellar underneath. 

One day a discharged soldier came from Browns¬ 
ville, broke and unable to engage board. So he went 
upstairs in this old building and slept there at night. 
In the daytime, he did odd jobs on the wharf help¬ 
ing to unload boats, etc. The first week he hardly 
made enough to buy food, according to what he 
told some of the boys who used to prowl around 
the building. 


AFTER THE CIVIL WAR 


17 


Another Refugee —On Monday of the soldier’s 
second week at the old house, an old Mexican came 
up and took charge of the cellar underneath the 
building. This week the white man did very well as 
there was a steamer in, besides several schooners. 
When he received his pay it amounted to five 
dollars. 

The Soldier is Alurdered —The old Mexican had 
been down on the wharf all evening and must have 
seen the soldier receive his pay. That night he mur¬ 
dered the soldier. 

He was the first murdered man I had ever seen. 
We discovered the body in the following manner: 

We Hunt a Good View —A steamer was due that 
morning and we wanted to see it coming in. As the 
Muely building was higher than most others and 
commanded a better view of the bay, we ran up¬ 
stairs to get a good view of the incoming boat. We 
were right on the murdered man before we real¬ 
ized it. 

A Horrible Discovery —He had been stabbed to 
death in a brutal manner. His throat was cut and he 
had been run through the breast several times. His 
arms and wrists were slashed from trying to ward 
off the knife. One stab in the breast went through to 
the floor and blood still dripped from it. The mur¬ 
derer must have taken the knife in both hands and 
thrown his whole weight on it, working it back¬ 
wards and forwards. In a few moments, the news 


18 


PERILOUS TRAILS OF TEXAS 


was all over town and the murderer was being 
sought. But he had disappeared. 

Capture of the Criminal —That night he was cap¬ 
tured about a mile from town. He was found stand¬ 
ing on a box outside a window trying to raise it and 
get inside. He was confined in jail for over a year, 
but while there he took dysentery and died before 
his trial came up. 

He Becomes a Song Writer —While in jail, he 
composed a song about Charley, the man he mur¬ 
dered. He used to sing it every day. He had been 
educated for a priest and would go through the 
whole Mass every Sunday. He even acted as his 
own organist, using his window sill as the keyboard 
of his organ. All the time he was going through the 
ritual he would vary it by throwing the contents of 
his slop bucket upon people outside who came with¬ 
in his range. After he had done this he would con¬ 
tinue with the mass as though nothing had hap¬ 
pened. I have his knife in my museum. 


CHAPTER III 


My Adventures Begin 

Experiences at Rockport —After the yellow fever 
epidemic I went to Rockport and worked with the 
Powell family who lived four miles from that 
place. At that time there were only two houses in 
Rockport, one belonging to an old turtle fisherman 
named Andy Johnson, and the other, near the foot 
of the wharf belonging to a man named Mathis. I 
arrived there on horseback late at night and camped 
under a liveoak tree near the foot of the wharf. 

A little before sunrise a couple of men came stroll¬ 
ing down to the wharf. I went out and met them 
and asked them where the town of Rockport was. 
They looked dumbfounded and one of them finally 
answered, “You are right in the middle of the town 
now, sir.” I then asked if the house near the wharf 
was the only one in town and he said, “No, sir, there 
is the other one,” and pointed to a small cabin a short 
distance away under some liveoaks. I inquired if 
there were any stores and he said, “Yes, the old man 
out on the head of the wharf who attends to the ware¬ 
house, keeps a few things.” Then I went out and 
invested my last quarter in crackers and sardines. 

Just as I had finished my banquet I saw a wagon 
19 


20 


PERILOUS TRAILS OF TEXAS 


drawn by a yoke of oxen. Two men were in the 
wagon. I followed them down on the wharf and 
asked one of them for work. He told me that he was 
hauling lumber from the steamer to the lumber yard 
and that they were starting at once and if I would 
work for fifty cents a day I could begin. I accepted 
the offer. 

The man who had the hauling contract was 
named Billy Powell and the man who was driving 
the wagon was Frank Bogus. This latter person I 
shall have occasion to mention in describing our 
intended invasion of Guerra, Mexico. He was a giant 
in strength. I have seen him strike an ox with his 
fist and make the animal bellow with pain. 

Bogus Gets into an Argument —Bogus once had 
some trouble with another man at Borden’s ferry, on 
the Nueces River. Bogus was on the north bank of 
the river and the other man was on the south bank 
when they began abusing each other. At last the man 
called Bogus a pet name. With that Bogus jumped 
into the ferry boat and began pulling to the other 
side, whereupon the other fellow opened his pocket 
knife and stuck the blade into a tree to make a rest 
for his pistol. He then knelt down and took delib¬ 
erate aim at Bogus as he pulled the boat across. 
When he fired the last shot, he broke and ran, throw¬ 
ing his pistol away as he went. When Bogus got 
ashore he chased the fellow about a mile up the 
river where he ran into a house and hid under a bed, 
begging the lady of the house to protect him. This 
she did by inducing Bogus to go away. 


MY ADVENTURES BEGIN 


21 


1 Get a Firing Job —After I had finished with the 
hauling job, I worked with Billy PowelPs father 
until some time in ’68. They were fine people. In the 
meantime, Rockport went through a big boom as the 
steamers were coming in every week and taking cat¬ 
tle to New Orleans. The first two steamers belonged 
to independent parties. They were named “The Dud¬ 
ley Buck,” a propeller, and the “Reindeer” an old 
side-wheeler. I fired on both of them for several 
trips until they were both wrecked. It was claimed 
that Morgan got one of his pilots aboard these 
steamers to do the work and then employed him to 
pilot his own steamer. Let me say right here that 
firing on these tubs was no picnic. 

I Meet Jim Brennan —One day I happened to go 
down to the wharf when there was a steamer in, and 
whom should I see aboard but a fellow by the name 
of Jim Brennan who worked at my uncle’s at the 
time of the yellow fever epidemic and whom I had 
helped to nurse through his attack. He was a middle 
aged man and I thought a lot of him. Therefore, 
when he informed me that he was going back to New 
Orleans on the boat and from there to Milwaukee, I 
was anxious to go with him. He asked me how I 
was fixed for money, and I told him I had about 
$140 and a horse, saddle and pistol. 

He said, “It’s foolishness for a young man to 
waste all his life in Texas when up in Milwaukee he 
can make more in a month than he could earn here 
in six months.” After a little persuasion, I agreed to 
go with him. 


22 


PERILOUS TRAILS OF TEXAS 


1868 — I heave Rockfort for Milwaukee —After 
agreeing to go with Brennan to his home in Milwau¬ 
kee, I returned to Powell’s and collected what was 
due me. I then sold my horse, saddle, bridle and pis¬ 
tol, which raised my cash account to one hundred and 
sixty dollars. When I got back to the boat Brennan 
told me that they were short a fireman and that if I 
would fire during the trip, I could get my passage 
free. I was glad to do this. 

We Reach St. Louis —When we got to New 
Orleans, we took passage aboard the “Pauline Car¬ 
rol” for St. Louis. There was a crowd of tough look¬ 
ing men aboard the ship and I noticed that they kept 
close together. We had our baggage piled up and 
one of us always stayed and watched it. One day 
while our crowd was walking around and I was on 
guard, one of the other crowd said to me, “What 
are you watching?” I replied, “I am watching these 
valises.” He then said, “If I catch you watching them 
again, I will break your nose.” With that he jumped 
and struck me on the nose. 

He was a very small young fellow and I hardly 
felt the blow, but after that the whole crowd jumped 
on me. There happened to be the wreckage of some 
old railroad cars piled up near us, and when I saw my 
plight, I jerked up a long bolt of iron and kept them 
at bay until our crowd came up. They had gotten 
within a few feet of each other when the other crowd 
all sat down on their luggage and one of our men 
caught me and pulled me back. 


MY ADVENTURES BEGIN 


23 


The Mystery Explained —I could not understand 
what was the matter until the man who had pulled 
me back, explained that they were all Odd Fellows 
and could not fight each other. However, the man 
who got struck with my iron rod was not an Odd 
Fellow and could not be pacified, so they let him 
fight with a gambler in our crowd who soon cooled 
him down. 

Brennan Has an Accident —A few nights after the 
fight, Brennan lost his hat. It probably blew over¬ 
board or some deck-hand picked it up. He began 
searching the whole ship and happened to get too 
near the Pitman beam which struck him on the side 
of the face, splitting it from his forehead down to 
the side of his neck. He was a large red-complex- 
ioned man and already had a wound on his chin made 
by what was called a “buck and ball” during the 
Civil War. One buck shot was still in his chin. This 
wound, together with his later accident, did noth¬ 
ing to contribute to his beauty. 

My Confidence is Betrayed —I had all the con¬ 
fidence in the world in Brennan. I had nursed him 
through the yellow fever and on this trip I had 
turned my money over to him to keep for me. We 
used to lie on blankets on deck at night with our 
valises under our heads. As we had to stop quite 
often along the route and were nof expecting to get 
to St. Louis until morning, I had placed my valise 
under Brennan’s arm and walked aft as the boat was 
landing. On returning to where I had left Brennan, 


24 


PERILOUS TRAILS OF TEXAS 


I found he was gone with both my money and the 
valises. The watchman said that he was the first man 
ashore. 

That was the last I ever saw or heard of him, but 
there I was nearly two thousand miles from home 
with not a penny in my pocket, and the only clothes 
I had on my back. I could not make myself believe 
that Brennan would treat me this way. With his face 
disfigured as it was the police could have caught him 
in a few hours. 

I Hob-nob with Hoboes —The next evening, I fol¬ 
lowed a railroad track out into the suburbs and just 
about midnight crawled into a coal car that was on 
a siding. A little later a crowd of hoboes came into the 
car and began hitting me with pieces of coal. Feeling 
that my presence was slightly unwelcome, I emi¬ 
grated to a small garden where there were a couple 
of stacks of hay. There I fared better than in the 
coal car. The next morning, I beat it back to St. Louis 
following the river, until I came to a place where 
some wagons were unloading a lot of burned stuff 
from a store that had been destroyed by fire the 
night before. 

There were a lot of hoodlums scratching around 
in the ashes and I noticed that some of them were 
finding pocket-knives that were scarcely scorched at 
all. I fell in line and soon had both pockets filled 
with fairly good knives. The last one I found was a 
beauty. Just as I picked it up, a large boy who was 
in the gang walked up and asked me if I would sell 
it, and how much I wanted for it. I told him that I 


MY ADVENTURES BEGIN 


25 


would sell it for a quarter, which he willingly gave 
me. 

I then told him that I was hungry and wanted to 
buy something to eat. He invited me to come with 
him, saying that his brother was a foreman in the St. 
Louis type foundry, and inviting me to eat dinner 
with them. I was glad to accept this invitation and 
made arrangements with the old German lady who 
kept the boarding house for a few days’ board until 
I could find a job. 

1 Return Home —Three days afterward, I crossed 
over to the Illinois side, and obtained work on a 
farm. I remained there until October, being sick 
practically all the time. At last I returned to St. 
Louis, and boarded the steamer “Stonewall” for New 
Orleans. From New Orleans I went to Galveston 
and from there to old Indianola where I took the 
mailboat for Corpus Christi. 

About the first news that I heard from Corpus 
when I landed in Galveston was that Matt Dunn had 
been murdered by Mexican robbers. 

Murder of Matt Dunn —Matt and Pat Dunn pre¬ 
viously mentioned as brothers of John and Mike 
Dunn, owned the Petronilla Ranch west of Corpus 
Christi. The ranch was well stocked with cattle, 
horses, and sheep. In 1867 Pat died with the yellow 
fever and Matt stayed along on the ranch with his 
men. His foreman was a man named Juan Franco. 

One day some strange Mexicans came and camped 
on the creek a little way from the main crossing. 


26 


PERILOUS TRAILS OF TEXAS 


They went to the house and asked Matt for various 
things such as salt, rice and meat. He gave them all 
they asked for. The next morning, they came again 
for more supplies which he also gave them. Im¬ 
mediately thereafter he went off on a horse hunt and 
did not return until late in the evening. 

When he arrived at the ranch he found the strange 
Mexicans there. As he was unsaddling his horse one 
of them put a pistol to the back of his head and the 
other one between his shoulders and both fired kill¬ 
ing him instantly. They then robbed the place, tak¬ 
ing everything of value, including the best horses on 
the ranch and fled to Mexico. 

A Different Story —This is the story told by the 
head man, Juan Franco. We knew no better until we 
captured Hypolita Tapia (see later sketch), and he 
gave us a list of the names of the men who were in 
the plot, naming Juan Franco as the originator. 

Tapia said that as Matt had a mail-route from 
Corpus to Brownsville, Juan knew it was pay day and 
supposed that Matt’s money had come in the mail. 

As soon as Franco heard that Tapia had given him 
away, he lost no time getting into Mexico. 


CHAPTER IV 


I Work in the Old Slaughter Houses 

Changes at Home —When I got back to Corpus, 
it seemed that everything had undergone a complete 
change. Instead of shipping cattle across the Gulf, 
they built slaughter houses all over the country and 
commenced killing the cattle for their hides and tal¬ 
low. The process they used was something like this: 

A certain number of cattle would be driven out 
of a large pen into a small chute. A man with a long 
spear would get on a plank or walk above the cattle 
and stab them in the back of the neck. This would 
sever the spinal column and they would drop dead. 
They were then hauled on to the skinning floor by a 
block and tackle pulled by a horse. There the butch¬ 
ers skinned them. Then the “gut man”, as he was 
called, cut the carcass open and took out the entrails. 
In the meantime, the “hide man” had taken the hide 
to a vat where it was salted down. Then the “marker” 
cut the hams and shoulders, marking them where the 
bones were to be broken and marking where the ribs 
joined the back bone. After this, the “ax man” broke 
all the bones where they were marked. Then the meat 
was dragged outside and pitched on platforms near 
the tanks until there was enough to fill the tanks into 


27 


28 


PERILOUS TRAILS OF TEXAS 


which it was transferred. The steam was now turned 
on and the meat was cooked so thoroughly that you 
could take the large joint bones in your hands and 
mash them to powder. Sometimes they would run 
out of cattle and the meat would have to lie on the 
platforms two or three days in the hot weather, and 
by the time we secured more cattle it would be so rot¬ 
ten and full of maggots that the heat and stench was 
suffocating. 

I did all kinds of work at this time, but mostly 
firing and cooking. When I first commenced working 
in the slaughter house it was in what was then called 
the “Rincon,” the strip of land between the present 
turning basin and the Causeway. There were three 
slaughter houses at that time in this section of the 
country. One belonged to old man Deavilin, one to 
John Hall, and the third to two men named Bill 
Brunwinkel and his partner, Mr. Ball. They were 
known as Bill and Ball. Bill afterward bought out 
Ball’s interest and ran the business alone. 

1 Get up Steam —The first work I obtained was 
as a fireman, in Bill’s employ. The engineer’s name 
was Fee and he was known as “Captain Fee.” He 
hired me in the evening and told me to get up early 
the next morning and get up steam and that by the 
time that was done he would be there. I was so 
pleased to get my job that I arose before daylight 
and started a fire in the furnace. 

I had seen other firemen throw the shin-bones of 
slaughtered cattle into the furnace in order to raise 


I WORK IN THE OLD SLAUGHTER HOUSES 29 


steam quickly, as the bones were full of oil and 
would make a very hot fire. I, therefore, followed 
their example and in a short time everything was 
sizzling from heat. 

The steam guage was located on top of the boiler 
and when I happened to look at it, I saw that it had 
about all the steam it would carry. I hardly knew 
what to do until I spied a long pole leaning against 
the boiler. I had noticed the engineer using it to raise 
the handle or beam of the whitle to cause it to blow. 
So I took the pole and gave a few blasts. 

Then I looked towards the house where the engi¬ 
neer was sleeping and saw him coming in his night 
gown. He made a comical figure with his long black 
beard and in this garb. Just as soon as possible, he let 
the steam off and then turned to me and said, “Young 
man, in a few more minutes you would have been 
sailing through space.” 

Crawford Plans Dark Deeds —After staying in 
the Rincon a few months, Bill moved the slaughter 
house down to the mouth of the Oso Creek. As he 
could get no cook, he raised my wages on condition 
that I would exchange jobs and do the cooking. He 
hired a new engineer named Crawford to run the 
engine. Crawford used to give me fifty cents to stay 
up and fire and watch the engine at night, for a few 
hours. When Bill found out I could be trusted with 
the engine, he made up his mind that he would cut 
expenses by discharging Crawford and by mak¬ 
ing me attend to the engine half the night besides 


30 


PERILOUS TRAILS OF TEXAS 


cooking for the men. So he began to get cross with 
Crawford and eventually discharged him. 

Crawford came and told me what Bill had done 
and said to me, “Just watch me. Pll move him up 
to the moon for this.” He said also, “That old 
Dutchman was made in Cincinnati.” “How could 
that be?” I questioned. “Easily enough,” he 
answered. “There was a factory there, a long build¬ 
ing with partitions between the different sections and 
a chute that ran clear through the building. When 
they wanted to make a Dutchman, they took a hog 
and threw him in the chute at the front door. When 
he came to the last section of the building, they gave 
him a feed of sour kraut and turned him loose a 
full-fledged Dutchman.” 

That night I happened to look up at the engine 
room and saw someone standing on the boiler with 
a bucket in his hand. I got up and walked over in 
that direction and when I got close, I saw that it was 
Crawford. He had raised the beam and was pour¬ 
ing something into the boiler. 

I asked him what he was doing and he said, “Old 
Bill has a ticket for the moon and I am going to 
help him off. When they raise steam again, this 
molasses that I am pouring in here will foam up so 
that he will think there is water in the boiler when 
there will be none, for I am going to bore a hole 
in the lead pipe going into the well so that none can 
go in when the pump is working. The check valve 
will make the same sound as it makes when there is 
water in the boiler. I would like to see Bill when he 


I WORK IN THE OLD SLAUGHTER HOUSES 31 


gets to the moon.” That night Crawford left and I 
never saw him again. 

A few days after he left, they raised steam again. 
As I was going to the slaughter house to get some 
meat to cook for dinner, having entirely forgotten 
about the Crawford episode, I passed the engine 
house and glanced up at the meter. I saw that it was 
in about the same condition as it was at the time of 
my first firing experience, when I came very nearly 
blowing up the works. 

I then remembered what Crawford had done to 
the boiler and pump, and calling Bill, I told him that 
he had better let off steam at once or the whole works 
would blow up. He refused to believe me until 
he saw me run off a couple of hundred yards, after 
which he began letting off steam. 

When I came back and told him all that Crawford 
had done he said, “You ought to be put in the peni¬ 
tentiary for not telling me sooner.” 

Old Bill was a curious character. He was subject 
to morose spells that would last for days, while at 
other times he would be in the best of humor. 

After Crawford left, I decided that I would leave 
as soon as my month was up, as Bill had offered me 
nothing extra for my night work. The night before 
the expiration of my time, Bill seemed to be in the 
best spirits that I had ever seen him in. I therefore 
determined to question him in regard to the factory 
in Cincinnati. I said to him, “Bill, were you ever in 
Cincinnati?” “Sure,” he answered, “Were you?” 
“No,” I replied. “Why do you ask?” said Bill. 


32 


PERILOUS TRAILS OF TEXAS 


“Crawford told me,” I answered solemnly, “that you 
were made in Cincinnati. That there was a factory 
there, where they threw in a hog and brought out 
a Dutchman.” 

With this Bill got so angry that he turned white as 
a sheet and stood for a moment as if paralyzed. Then 
he reached for the top of a pile of wood and took a 
four-foot chunk and drew it back as if to strike me, 
saying, “Did you believe that dirty . . . ?” “No,” I 
answered, “it was not I who said it, it was Craw¬ 
ford.” 

Bill was so angry that he shook his head as if he 
had the palsy. The next morning I resigned. Bill 
afterwards moved his packery to Flour Bluffs, stayed 
there a few months and then moved to Padre Island 
where he finally went bankrupt. 

Murder at Hall’s Packery —During my last stay 
at Rockport, a brutal murder occurred. A man by the 
name of Toomey who worked in the packery, lived 
a couple of hundred yards away from the slaughter 
house. Among those working at the packery was one 
named George French and another man by the name 
of Fitzpatrick. It seems that the man Toomey had 
forbidden these two men to go to his house, which 
was situated on the side of a hill. 

One Sunday, quite a group of men, including 
French and Fitzpatrick, were assembled at the foot 
of the hill fronting Toomey’s house. They were 
amusing themselves running burro races and with 
other games. Later in the evening they all left except 


I WORK IN THE OLD SLAUGHTER HOUSES 33 


French and Fitzpatrick, who stretched out on the 
grass to talk. 

In the meantime, Toomey who had been drinking 
heavily all day, spotted them and walked down to 
where they were. He commenced a friendly conversa¬ 
tion with them and ended by telling them that if they 
ever needed a friend, to be sure and call on him. 
They thanked him and assured him that they would. 

Just then, Toomey reached to the ground and 
picked up a piece of pine scantling about five feet 
long. With this he struck French in the head killing 
him instantly, and before Fitzpatrick could arise 
from the ground he killed him also. 

Toomey Asks Advice —The murderer then walked 
down to the American Packery and told the Boss 
Butcher, whose name was Pat Connelly, what he had 
done and asked him for his advice. Toomey was a 
Free Mason and so was Connelly. Thinking that 
Toomey was drunk and just “blowing off” Connel¬ 
ly told told him to go home and go to bed. 

Death of the Murderer —By that time the bodies 
of the two men had been found, and just as Toomey 
reached his house, a butcher by the name of Bob Staf¬ 
ford emptied a six-shooter at him as he was entering 
the house. However, he didn’t hit him. At that time 
there was a man by the name of Ed Harney and his 
wife and child stopping with Toomey and Toomey 
would not let them leave the house. In a few mo¬ 
ments the house was surrounded by the employees 
from the three packeries who fired shots at the mur- 


34 


PERILOUS TRAILS OF TEXAS 


derer every time they could get a glimpse of him. 
Some time after midnight, one of the mob threw a 
billet of wood and broke out a window, after which 
he slipped up and shot Toomey through the breast. 
Just before daybreak Toomey gave up the ghost. 


CHAPTER V 


With the Texas Rangers 

7 Join Chamberlain?s Company —Shortly after I 
left Bill’s employ, a man by the name of Blan Cham¬ 
berlain came to Corpus Christi for the purpose of or¬ 
ganizing a company of Texas Rangers, he having a 
commission from the government to do so. My bro¬ 
ther Matt and myself joined the company and found 
it the worst mixed lot of men that ever came to¬ 
gether in one organization. 

Out of the company of sixty men there were but 
five Texans 5 L. O’Dougherty, Wm. O. Nieland, 
Wiley Nickels, Matt Dunn and myself. There were 
eight Mexican members, a Mississippi man named 
Oliver, and one of Quantrell’s ex-guerrillas named 
Pool. The rest of the company were fished out of the 
slums in San Antonio by the first sergeant, John Mor¬ 
gan, with the exception of Billie Cline, the bugler, 
who was from Louisiana, and a Frenchman who had 
been a member of Maximillian’s army in Mexico. 

The man Morgan was an ex-sergeant in the regu¬ 
lar army and was a regular brute. He tried to enforce 
the same tactics in the ranger service as he had been 
accustomed to in the regular army. In recruiting for 
the company, he invariably tried to get all the ex- 
35 


36 


PERILOUS TRAILS OF TEXAS 


regular soldiers that he could so as to strengthen his 
personal influence and he succeeded. While in camp 
on the Salado he brought in some of the most dilapi¬ 
dated, diseased, moth-eaten specimens of humanity 
that I have ever seen. Some of them could not stay 
on a trotting horse without holding on to the “timber 
knocker” as they called the pummel of the saddle. 

A Leaf from Morgan's Past —Just after the Civil 
War, Morgan’s company was stationed at Gonzales. 
While there, one of his men abused a Dr. Cunning¬ 
ham who lived in Gonzales. When Morgan heard of 
it, he took a file of soldiers and followed the Doctor 
to the Keyser House. Just as Morgan and his men 
arrived the doctor was going up the steps of the hotel 
to his room. Morgan called to him to halt at the same 
time telling his men to fire, which they did, killing 
the Doctor immediately. This was during the Recon¬ 
struction days when the country was under the car¬ 
pet-bag rule, and a Southern citizens’ life was not 
considered by the “nigger lovers.” 

We were out about nine months when we were 
ordered to disband. 

Fate of Morgan —Since writing the above, I have 
learned that Morgan later went to Mexico and tried 
to force his tactics on the Mexican people. They put 
him in the penitentiary and when he attempted to 
escape they shot him to death. It is a blessing that 
the soil of Texas was not contaminated by drinking 
his blood. 

The Fight at Beeville —While on our way to Aus- 


WITH THE TEXAS RANGERS 


37 


tin to be disbanded we camped one night at Beeville 
on the south side of the creek. Morgan, knowing that 
every man in the company hated him, got the idea 
that they intended killing him before they got to 
Austin. So he went to the Captain and told him a lot 
of lies and persuaded him to have a roll call at dark 
and to issue orders that no one should leave the camp 
and that no one should bring whiskey into the camp. 

As the boys knew the instigator of the scheme, it 
made them angry and some of them determined to 
go and get whiskey anyway. As soon as the roll was 
called and Sergeant Morgan read the orders, the 
second sergeant, a Texas boy named Willie Nickels, 
called Matt and me and told us to come with him. 
Thinking that perhaps we were detailed for some 
purpose, we went with him to town. When we ar¬ 
rived there, he bought four bottles of whiskey and 
went back to camp walking within ten feet of where 
the Captain and Morgan and some Mexicans were 
sitting on a blanket playing cards. 

The captain looked up and said, “What have you 
there, Nickels?” “Whiskey,” answered the latter. 
“Were you not at the roll call?” asked the Captain. 
Nickels said, “Yes, I was there and heard the orders, 
but I pay for my own whiskey and I am going to 
drink it.” The Captain replied, “ All right, but I 
shall hold you responsible for anything that may 
happen.” 

It was getting dusk and Nickels walked over to 
where a bunch of the boys were talking and gave 
them two bottles of the whiskey. In the meantime, 


38 


PERILOUS TRAILS OF TEXAS 


Morgan assembled the ex-soldiers that were in the 
company and had been discharged out of the regular 
army. This band came over to where we were. 

Morgan was a very strong man and he slipped 
up till he got behind Nickels and struck him on the 
back of the neck and knocked him up against a wagon. 
Just then a man by the name of Pool who had been 
one of Quantrell’s guerrillas, struck Morgan with his 
gun and knocked him on all fours. With that, a fel¬ 
low by the name of Oliver jumped astraddle of Mor¬ 
gan and drove his spurs into Morgan’s flanks, which 
caused Morgan to buck like a bronco. He finally tore 
loose from Oliver, but dragged him several feet, as 
the latter’s spurs had fastened in Morgan’s clothes. 

Morgan’s Retreat —When Morgan did get loose, 
he went through space like a shooting star going 
straight toward the creek and passing his four part¬ 
ners who had already emigrated. As he ran by where 
the Captain and the Mexicans were, the Mexicans 
grabbed the Captain and followed suit. In the mean¬ 
time Pool, who had knocked Morgan down, was 
right behind the latter pumping the gun between his 
shoulders, not knowing that he had broken it when 
he struck Morgan first. With the disappearance of 
Morgan and his bunch, those who remained were in 
charge of the camp. 

The men who had run away got into the creek and 
then followed a system of sniping on both sides. 
About ten o’clock our bugler who was full of booze, 
set fire to one of the company’s wagons. This lit up 


WITH THE TEXAS RANGERS 


39 


the surrounding country and made good targets of us 
for the runaways to shoot at. In burning the wagon, 
all the Company’s papers were destroyed besides the 
officers’ clothing and their fancy “grub.” 

A Flag of Truce —There were shots fired all 
through the night, but fortunately no one was hurt. 
Just before daylight, we persuaded Sergeant Nickels 
to mount his horse and leave, knowing that he would 
be held responsible for the whole trouble. As soon as 
day began to break, we saw the company doctor com¬ 
ing in a gallop carrying a white flag. (Bear in mind 
that when the Mexicans ran away they took the Cap¬ 
tain with them and left every one of their guns lying 
on the ground. We picked these up and stacked 
them against a tree.) The doctor told us that the 
Captain had said that if we would return the guns, 
he would overlook the trouble, as it was nothing but 
a drunken row. We returned the guns and as soon as 
the Mexicans received them, most of the boys were 
sent out to hunt horses that had escaped during the 
night. 

Five Men are Put in Irons —As soon as they were 
gone, five of the boys were arrested, Gus Pool, Oli¬ 
ver, O’Daughtery, the bugler and one whose name I 
have forgotten. They were all taken to a blacksmith 
shop and irons were rivited to their wrists and legs. 
Morgan stated that they would be tried for mutiny. 

Flynn Goes into Action —Our first lieutenant was 
known among us as Flynn, but that was not his 
name. He had had some trouble in Lower California 


40 


PERILOUS TRAILS OF TEXAS 


and was known there as Three-fingered Jack, as he 
had but three fingers on one hand. It is said that he 
fought his way from Lower California to Mata- 
moras, Mexico, having but four men out of the 82 
who had accompanied him when he left Lower Cali¬ 
fornia. Flynn was not with us when the trouble 
started. If he had been, not one of the boys would 
have been arrested. We were camped on Onion Creek 
this side of Austin when Flynn came into camp. 

When he saw the boys in irons he asked the cause. 
He then called Morgan and said, “Take the irons 
off those boys quick and handle them ‘gentle’! ” Mor¬ 
gan started to say something but Flynn told him to 
shut up or he would put a pair on him. The irons 
were removed. 

We Have Another Engagement — We reached 
Austin on St. Patrick’s day. We were so ragged that 
the officers were ashamed to take us into the city, so 
they put us in camp near the old Military Academy. 

There was a brewery within a hundred yards of our 
camp. As we had no money, we pawned pistols and 
carbines and bought beer by the keg. In the mean¬ 
time, some of the cadets from the Academy hap¬ 
pened to stroll into our camp. We filled them up 
with beer and in a few minutes a large crowd of them 
arrived. Among them were two cadets from Gon¬ 
zales County who had plenty of money. They sent a 
negro to town to get several bottles of whiskey. Then 
the fun began. In a short time, the place looked like 
a battle field, with the cadets stretched out in their 


WITH THE TEXAS RANGERS 


41 


nice white uniforms and the rangers in their dirty 
rags. The Academy had to send an ambulance after 
their casualties that night. 

We are Disbanded —The next day we were 
marched to the old Capitol and discharged. Some of 
the boys were so drunk that it took two sober ones 
to hold each of them up while waiting for the dis¬ 
charge. They claimed that it was the smell of the 
“niggers” that made them sick, for this was during 
the administration of E. J. Davis and all the clerks 
around the capitol were negroes. Some of them were 
so black that one would have to light a lamp to see 
them. Years afterward in talking to an old pioneer 
of Austin he told me that they never got rid of the 
smell of the negroes until after the old capitol burned 
down. 

We Get Cheated —After we got our discharges and 
part of our pay, we were given to understand that 
if certain ones of us would return to Santa Gertrudis 
and go into camp there, we would be sent commis¬ 
sions in a few weeks and be put on the State Police 
Force that was being organized at that time. We were 
also told that we would be sent vouchers for the bal¬ 
ance of our pay. Pool, Oliver, Hannigan and I went 
to Santa Gertrudis and worked for Captain King 
for three months, but never heard anything of cither 
vouchers or commissions. 

When we saw how badly we had been duped, we 
left Santa Gertrudis and scattered, hunting work. 
None of us ever met again. Heath joined another 


42 


PERILOUS TRAILS OF TEXAS 


company in Red River County and was killed in the 
first fight they had with the Indians there. Pool, 
Hannigan and Oliver, I never heard from again. 

The Bull Incident —While we were camped near 
King’s Ranch an amusing thing occurred. It was cus¬ 
tomary in the morning at roll call to detail different 
squads of men for duty during the day. Among them 
there was a squad whose duty it was to drag wood 
into camp for the night, going out on horseback and 
dragging in the wood by the horns of the saddle. If 
the night was very cold, we would take a cord of 
wood and set it on fire all at once. It would warm 
the whole camp. 

A couple of nights before, an old Mexican bull or 
work ox, had been noticed slipping into the camp 
after everything had quieted down. He was seeking 
warmth and would lie down by the fire and sleep. 
This night he must have been very cold for he came 
into camp earlier than usual, sniffed around for 
awhile, and then stretched out within four feet of 
where my bunky, John Heath, and myself were 
lying. We were awake and kept watching him dream¬ 
ing and chewing his cud. 

But his peace was destined to a rude disturbance 
for he had gotten too near the fire. When he felt 
the hot ashes and coals he went up into the air like 
a rocket, bellowing and snorting worse than a whale. 
In a few moments pademonium broke loose. 

The Third Battle of Bull Run —Every man in 
camp was on his feet in a moment shooting at every 


WITH THE TEXAS RANGERS 


43 


object that he could see. Some were considerably 
mashed up by the bulls’ sharp hoofs. Others ran out 
and climbed trees and hid in the chapparal, at least 
the Mexican members of the . company did so. The 
darkness of the night made it still worse, as the bull 
went pitching and jumping through the fire light 
scattering coals and ashes. In a few minutes some 
of the beds were on fire, and we had a time putting 
them out. The next morning we took an inventory of 
our losses and they tallied as follows: 

Two broken saddles, one broken bridle 
bit, two wounded men, one broken shovel, 
one broken wagon tongue, one bullet-rid¬ 
dled saddle. 

A Sensitive Guest —The Mexicans did not get in 
until nine o’clock. I cannot account for the fact that 
no one was killed unless there is truth in the theory 
that there is a special Providence that watches over 
fools and drunkards. One of the Mexicans who came 
in reported having seen the bull about three miles 
from camp next morning. He had a bullet wound 
in one of his front legs and had been so badly 
scorched by the fire that he looked like a pictorial 
map of Mexico. He must have been a very sensitive 
animal for he never called again. 

My Last Squirrel Hunt —Just after being mus¬ 
tered into service in Chamberlain’s Company in San 
Antonio, we went into camp on the Salado Creek a 
few miles from town. One day a stranger rode into 


44 


PERILOUS TRAILS OF TEXAS 


camp, tied his horse and went over to some of the 
boys and asked questions about the Company. 

While he was talking, one of our men walked over 
to where he was and began abusing him. The stranger 
told him that he did not want any trouble with him 
and mounted his horse and left camp. After that we 
asked Daughtery, (the man who had abused the 
stranger) what the trouble was between them. Daugh¬ 
tery stated that about two years before, he and Sulli¬ 
van, (the stranger) happened to be drinking in the 
old town of San Patricio and that Sullivan had given 
him a terrible beating. 

A few days after the above incident, Daughtery 
said to me, “Let’s go out and kill some squirrels.” I 
agreed and we started out. When we were about 
two miles from camp, we came upon a small frame 
house in a bunch of live oaks. Daughtery turned 
and rode toward the house saying as he did so, “This 
is where that fellow Sullivan lives and I wanted you 
to stand by me.” 

I told him I wanted nothing to do with the trou¬ 
ble but he paid no attention to me. He rode up to 
the front door and called. A man came to the door 
and Daughtery asked him if Sullivan was there. He 
told him that he was Daughtery then told him that 
he wanted to see Sullivan, and the man, whose name 
was Brady, called the latter who came out. Daugh¬ 
tery asked him if he was as anxious to fight as he was 
the other day in camp. Sullivan answered that he was 
not anxious to fight but that if he were driven to it, 
he would do his best. 


WITH THE TEXAS RANGERS 


45 


The Women Take a Hand —Daughtery told him 
to come on away from the house and they would set¬ 
tle the matter. With that Brady came to the door 
and said, “There is not going to be any fighting 
around here.” At the same time, he turned to one 
of his daughters who was in the house and said 
to her, “Get my hat, I am going to San Antonio and 
have that Company moved away from here.” With 
that his daughter handed him a seven-shot Spencer 
carbine while at the same time his wife and two 
daughters jumped in front of him and he began 
yelling and shooting over their shoulders at us. 

I never even pulled my pistol but Daughtery did, 
at the same time telling the women to get from in 
front of Brady or take the consequences. “No d—m 
woman,” he said, “is going to get between me and a 
man when I am fighting.” Thereupon he leveled his 
pistol at one of the women, but I knocked it down 
and the ball went into the fork of the saddle. 

Just then one of the Spencer bullets cut a limb off 
a mesquite tree and it fell squarely over my shoul¬ 
ders and hung there. I let it stay. I had no particu¬ 
lar use for it, but it was more convenient to take it 
along than to lose time taking it off. We suddenly 
decided that discretion was the better part of valor 
and took a hurried departure. I was glad when we 
could no longer hear the whine of those Spencer 
balls that sounded the requiem of my last squirrel 
hunt. 


46 


PERILOUS TRAILS OF TEXAS 


THE RANGER 

He’s as tall and straight as ever, 

And his eyes are just as bright, 

But there’s a look about him 
Like an eagle poised for flight. 

He’s staring out to the westward, 

As he sniffs the wintry air, 

And he mutters “Must be something 
A-brewing over there.” 

For he rode with the Texas Rangers, 

When the trails were wild and dim, 

And whenever folks had trouble 
They always sent for him. 

So he’s oiling his rusty rifle, 

For he’s taking the trails again, 

As a shot rings out in the darkness, 

The call of the spirit-men. 

And he’s not the kind for shirking, 

At the beat of the final drum, 

When the captain calls “Attention!” 

And the Boss of the Ranch says, “Come!” 

And just outside in the bushes 
A shadowy pony waits, 

A horse that the Big Boss sent him 
To ride to the Golden Gates. 

So we’ll toll no dirge at his passing, 

But we’ll fling him a rousing cheer, 

When he rides with the Phantom Rangers 
Over the Last Frontier. 

—Published in the Golden Stallion . 
(Southwest Press) 


CHAPTER VI 


Up the Trail to Kansas 

A Job with Martin Allen —After Pool, Hannigan, 
Heath, Oliver and myself started for Northern 
Texas we tried to find a herd of cattle that were 
going up the trail, hoping to find a job. Since every 
herd seemed well supplied with hands, I got dis¬ 
gusted and returned to Corpus. There I went out 
to what is now called the Roark farm, a place at 
which a man by the name of Martin Allen was run¬ 
ning a slaughter house killing cattle for their hides 
and tallow. I worked for him about two months until 
he closed his slaughter house and bought two herds 
containing twelve hundred cattle each. 

We Take the Trail —We started early in March. 
When we arrived at what was known as Mustang 
Pens in Williamson County, the two herds were 
sold to the Avery Brothers of Brushy in William¬ 
son County. Some of the boys turned back when the 
herd was sold but I went on with the herd to Fort 
Hays, Kansas, now called Hays City. 

We had a very nice trip. After crossing the Red 
River into the “Indian Nation” we found plenty of 
buffalo, elk, deer and antelope. In fact we lived on 
47 


48 


PERILOUS TRAILS OF TEXAS 


the meat of these animals until we reached Fort 
Hays. 

I Take up Surgery —Just before we crossed the 
Red River, I performed my first surgical operation. 
We had a Mexican vaquero named Gregorio with 
us. One day the boss bought a large, clumsy looking 
horse from a man that we met on the trail. He 
turned the horse over to Gregorio who saddled him 
at once and proceeded to rope a stray cow that had 
gotten into the herd. He roped the cow with the 
first throw of the rope, and then pulled on the reins 
to steady the horse. 

He had a long raw-hide lariat and when the cow 
had run its full length, the horse, instead of bracing 
himself, gave way and fell to the ground. Gregorio 
was winding the lariat around the horn of the sad¬ 
dle, when the horse gave way and his hand caught 
between the neck of the saddle and the rope. The 
horse lay there and grunted while the cow jumped up 
and began jerking and pulling on the rope. This 
ground Gregorio’s fingers into shreds before one of 
the boys could get there and cut the rope. 

He was so weak that we had to carry him into 
camp and pour water on him. We were a hundred 
miles from a doctor and some one remarked that the 
fingers and some of the loose flesh that was hanging 
from his arm and hand should be taken off. But no 
one would volunteer to do it. 

Finally I decided to do it myself and placed a 
cracker box along side of the wagon tongue and had 


UP THE TRAIL TO KANSAS 


49 


him sit on it, and made him lean his elbow on the 
tongue of the wagon. One man sat on the tongue and 
another sat on the box beside him and held an arm 
around him to steady him. I then got my razor and 
cut olf his fingers and all the loose skin that was 
hanging in shreds from his wrist and hand. After¬ 
wards I dug a hole and buried them. We then made 
a poultice of corn meal and mush and let it cool and 
wrapped his hand up in it. 

While near the Red River we came to a farm and 
Mr. Avery made arrangements with the farmer to 
take care of him, leaving him all that was due him 
and other money besides. That was the last we ever 
heard of Gregorio. 

I Take Chills and Fever —After we rested the 
herds for a few days at Fort Hays they started them 
for Nebraska. As all the Texas boys were quitting, 
so did I. When I left Fort Hays, I went to St. 
Louis, Mo., then across the Mississippi River into 
Illinois where I contracted the ague. I used to have 
chills so severely that my teeth would snap like those 
of a javelina. While we were coming down the Miss¬ 
issippi, I would crawl under the boilers trying to keep 
warm but it was impossible. It reminded me of a 
yarn that I had heard a fellow tell about the Brazos 
River in Texas. He said that the malaria was so bad. 
there that the alligators would crawl out when they 
saw a passer-by and ask him for a dose of quinine. 
About that time a bull-frog would jump on top of a 
log and cry out, “Double the dose, double the dose! ” 


50 


PERILOUS TRAILS OF TEXAS 


At St. Louis I engaged passage in the steamboat 
T. M. McGill. The whole crew with the exception 
of the captain and first and second mates were 
negroes and they let no opportunity pass to curse and 
abuse white passengers. One day one of them abused 
a young white man without any cause. There were 
two other white men with him but they were power¬ 
less to help him, knowing that if they even opened 
their mouths all the negroes would jump on them 
and perhaps hack them to pieces with razors. 

Serious Consequences —A day or so after the above 
incident, one of the crew came running from the 
wheel-house with a bloody hat in his hand, crying 
out, “Somebody has been killed on this boat.” It was 
some time before they could determine the owner¬ 
ship of the hat, but finally it was recognized by its 
former owner who had traded it to the negro who 
had abused the boy. The boy had slipped up on his 
tormentor and killed him in the wheel-house, where 
he went through into the river. 

When he struck the negro he threw the bar into 
the wheel-house but one of the paddles caught it 
and threw it back. The boys were never molested 
again and all was quiet on the Mississippi. 

A Strange Bed-Fellow —We were towing two 
large barges destined for Cairo. On night on waking 
from sleep I thought that we had arrived at that 
place. Accordingly I stepped ashore and went into a 
saloon. Just as I did I heard the boat backing out. My 
valise was on board and my passage was paid to New 


UP THE TRAIL TO KANSAS 


51 


Orleans. I asked the bar-man what place it was and 
he told me that it was Cape Girardeau, Mo., and that 
was the only hotel in the place. He also stated that if 
I stayed all night, I would have to occupy a bed 
with another man, and pointed to an individual 
seated on a bench in the saloon. 

As I did not like the looks of my prospective bed¬ 
fellow, I went upstairs first and took my money 
which was in a flat leather pocketbook, and laid it on 
top of one of the bed slats, under the mattress. I 
then went to bed. 

When my room-mate came up, he said, “Are you 
asleep, partner?” I pretended to be asleep and said 
nothing. He then commenced a systematic search, 
feeling all over me, and giving the same sensation 
as if he had been a rattle-snake. I was powerless to 
help myself. Between him and the bedbugs I passed a 
horrible night, for the latter pests simply came in 
swarms. 

Sometime before I had heard a fellow tell about 
getting in the same predicament. He described how 
he had fought valiantly against the bed-bugs until 
he could struggle no longer and finally fell into a 
deep slumber. He dreamed that he was awakened by 
the sweetest music he had ever heard and believed 
he had arrived at the Pearly Gates and that the 
angels were coming to escort him. 

Now in his previous combat with the bugs, he 
would catch a handful of them and lighting a match 
throw both the bugs and the lighted match into a 
bucket of water at the side of his bed. When he heard 


52 


PERILOUS TRAILS OF TEXAS 


the singing, he sat up trying to locate it and finally 
decided that it was at the side of his bed. He then 
lighted a match and looked down. There he saw that 
the bed-bugs had built a raft out of the stumps of 
the matches and were floating around in the bucket 
singing, “A life on the ocean wave, and a home in the 
rolling deep! ” 

I Catch U'p with the Boat —The next morning I 
went down to the levee and found there a little stern 
wheeler called the “Champion.” I asked the captain 
how far down the river he was going and he told me 
he was bound for Cairo. I took passage with him, 
never dreaming that we would catch up with the T. 
M. McGill which had been traveling all night, but 
we passed her and got into Cairo four hours ahead 
of her. 

A Fight at the Landing —The next day our smart 
negro crew got smashed up in grand style. We were 
taking on freight at a small landing on the river. 
The warehouse was situated some four or five hun¬ 
dred yards from the river, and the elevation was so 
high that they could put a barrel of flour on a track 
that led from the door and give the barrel a shove 
that would make it roll like lightning on to the boat. 
In about 20 feet of the boat this track had been 
broken by high water and a negro had to stand by 
the broken place and steady the barrel with his hand. 
Otherwise when the barrel came to the broken place, 
it would jump the track. Some of the crew tried to 
take a watermelon from a white boy on the levee and 


UP THE. TRAIL TO KANSAS 


53 


the negro that was watching the barrel turned his 
head to see the row. When the barrel came in, it 
struck the broken place, jumped the track and strik¬ 
ing the negro square in the mouth, broke his jaw 
and knocked out every one of his front teeth. 

On deck and at the foot of the track there was 
also a crowd of negroes stationed to catch and steady 
the barrel, while others stowed it in the hold of the 
vessel. The next barrel that came, knocked two 
negroes off the deck, breaking one’s shin bone and 
nearly drowning the other. 

A Yellow Fever Scare —When I arrived at New 
Orleans, I found a Morgan steamer there called the 
“Hutchinson.” I boarded her for Galveston. A few 
hours after landing there, a man came in a great 
hurry to the hotel where I was stopping, and asked 
if any one there had ever had the yellow fever. I 
told him that I had had it in Corpus Christi in ’67. 
He then begged me to go with him and look at a 
man who was supposed to be suffering from that 
malady. I accompanied him and found that all the 
man had was cramps. I told him so, but before night 
all the back country had quarantined against Galves¬ 
ton. 

7 Decide to Leave Town —Late that evening I 
heard that a locomotive and a caboose were going 
to be allowed to leave the city, in order that Gover¬ 
nor E. J. Davis, who was in Galveston at that time, 
might return to the capital. I accordingly went to the 


54 


PERILOUS TRAILS OF TEXAS 


causeway and waited for the train to come along, 
knowing that it would cross slowly. 

On arriving there, I was surprised to find two 
of the young fellows, who were supposed to have 
been implicated in the killing of the negro on the 
boat bound for New Orleans. They told me they 
were going to ride the ladders across and showed me 
how to manage it. 

We reached Houston all right, but it was like 
jumping from the frying pan into the fire, as all the 
towns were quarantined against Houston also. The 
next night I slipped out of Houston on foot, trying 
to make Gonzales where I had a horse. 

Getting out of Houston —I got along pretty well 
until I came to Columbus. The night was pitch dark 
and I had to cross a very long railroad bridge, car¬ 
rying my heavy valise. There being no foot bridge, 
I had to straddle the rails carrying my valise in one 
hand. Several times I almost fell through the trestle. 

When I neared the opposite bank, I noticed a dim 
light in front of me and on drawing nearer, I saw 
that it came from a tent of a very thin canvas, 
through which I could see the shadows of two men 
playing cards. I then had to shift myself to the other 
side of the railroad track and almost fell through, 
but eventually I got across. I hid my valise in a 
lumber yard and mixed in with a bunch of section 
hands who were going to a saloon. I stepped in ahead 
of them and asked them to have a drink which they 
willingly did. I had had nothing to eat the day before 


UP THE TRAIL TO KANSAS 


55 


as I had run out of change having nothing with me 
but ten and twenty-dollar bills. Treating the crowd 
gave me plenty of change to take me to Gonzales. 

7 Encounter a Rube —My last adventure on this 
trip was at a place called East Bernard. It was a 
place in the midst of the prairie containing only a 
section house and a small country store. As I was 
burning up with thirst, I ventured into the store and 
asked the young rube who ran it for a drink of water. 
He told me that there was a well outside. After 
drinking, I went back inside and by that time four 
or five country girls had come into the store. No 
doubt the rube wanted a chance to display his intel¬ 
ligence before the girls, so he said to me, “Where 
are you from?” “From Richmond,” I replied. “Is 
thar eny yaller fever thar?” he asked. I told him 
that I had not heard of any. “Did you ask permis¬ 
sion before you came up here?” he continued. I told 
him that I did not since I had met nothing but three 
head of cattle since leaving Richmond. 

In a side room there were several cowboys who 
were regaling themselves on some bottled beer. He 
turned to one of them and said, “What became of 
that fellow who came here the other day without 
asking permission?” I answered before any one else 
could, telling him that I had seen the man in a gully 
and that he had sent a message I did not care to 
repeat. With that the cowboys came in and filled me 
up on beer, and among us all we gave him a racket. 
I told him that I guessed I had been in Texas as 


56 


PERILOUS TRAILS OF TEXAS 


long as he had. He explained that the reason he had 
spoken to me the way he had was because he thought 
I was a “damn Yankee.” 

After leaving the store, I returned to where I had 
cached my valise. Just then a section boss and two 
hands came along in a hand-car. The boss said, 
“Where are you going, young fellow?” “To Gon¬ 
zales,” I answered. “Jump up, young man,” he told 
me, “and give us a hand and we will take you 
down to the end of the section.” That was the only 
ride I got between Houston and Gonzales. 

An Unlucky Venture —After I arrived at Gon¬ 
zales, my brother Matt came there and we put in a 
crop of cotton and corn. My uncle, who owned the 
land, boarded the teams and was to give me one 
half of the crop. That fall an overflow came and 
washed most of it away. When we figured up our 
accounts we found that I had had the chills and fever 
nine months out of the twelve for my share and that 
my uncle had paid the expenses for his share. We 
were disgusted and let what was left of the crop go 
and went to San Antonio where we worked for the 
Ross Brothers who had a contract to furnish troops 
in San Antonio with hay for their horses. After fin¬ 
ishing this job, we went to Leon Springs and cut 
hay in the canyons there, then went on to Culebra 
Springs and other places that I have forgotten. 

The German and the Indian —While we were at 
Culebra Springs, a traveler came into our camp and 
related an incident that had happened just three days 


UP THE TRAIL TO KANSAS 


57 


before about half way between our camp and Cas- 
troville. It was the full of the moon and the Indians 
were known to be on one of their horse stealing 
expeditions. 

The traveler stated that just before sundown, a 
German peddler drove up to the farm house where 
he was stopping and asked the farmer if he could 
camp in the horse lot. The farmer told him that he 
could and also invited him to come inside after he 
had fed his horses and eat supper with him, saying 
also that he would furnish him a bed. The peddler 
thanked the farmer and told him that he would pre¬ 
fer to sleep in his wagon as he understood that the 
Indians were in and that they might attempt to steal 
his horses. 

About midnight the farmer heard a shot out at the 
lot and called to the peddler but could get no 
answer. He called several times with the same result, 
and concluded that the peddler had been killed. 

The family, feeling sure that the Indians were 
around sat up until daybreak watching the lot. When 
it became light enough to see they observed the ped¬ 
dler leaning over a hog pen looking at the hogs. The 
farmer called to him and asked him what he had 
shot at. “Come and see,” he answered. 

When the farmer got there, he saw the body of an 
Indian in the hog pen being eaten by the hogs. The 
German then told him that as he lay awake watching 
his horses he observed the Indian slip up and com¬ 
mence to cut the rope of one of the horses, where¬ 
upon he emptied both barrels of buckshot into the 


58 


PERILOUS TRAILS OF TEXAS 


prowler, and in order to dispose of the body, he gave 
it to the hogs. 

Two days after that, two men started to our camp 
but got lost and staked their horses out, placing their 
saddles for pillows against the bushes, that the stake 
rope was tied to. When they awoke next morning, 
their horses were gone and they came into camp 
with their saddles on their shoulders. The Indians 
had cut their horses loose and stolen them. It seemed 
that the Indians were averse to killing anyone in 
those days if they could make a raid and get away 
with horses. 


CHAPTER VII 


A Horrible Crime 

The Robbery and Murder at Pensecal —The fol¬ 
lowing account of this horrible crime was published 
in the “Corpus Christi Gazette” as follows: “On the 
evening of the 15 th of May, 1874, a bunch of armed 
Mexicans rode up to the Pensecal Ranch and 
began shooting at everyone in sight, according to 
the Mexican cook who was returning from the well 
with a bucket of water. He first saw Mr. Tilgner 
running from the store vomitting blood, and then 
saw him dispatched by the murderers, after which 
they shot Michael Morton four times through the 
head. Mr. Coakley was tied face downward and three 
bullets fired into his body. 

The murder of John Morton, judging from cir¬ 
cumstantial evidence, is beyond the power of man 
to describe. With deliberate coolness he was wounded 
so as to render him incapable of defending him¬ 
self. In this condition he was forced to overhaul the 
goods in the store and deliver all valuables to the 
murderers. He was reserved for the last. From the 
position in which he was found it is believed that he 
interceded on bended knees for his life. He was 
shot six times and when found was lying on his back 
59 


60 


PERILOUS TRAILS OF TEXAS 


near the counter with one leg bent under him and 
his prayer book lying by his side. The shelves, boxes 
and everything were covered with his blood. After 
completing their hellish work, the murderers got 
beastly drunk and remained in the house until nearly 
daylight. Then they loaded their horses with all the 
goods they could carry and left. 

The Murderers are Pursued —When the news 
reached town, several posses were immediately 
organized under different heads to capture the mur¬ 
derers. On leaving town, the pursurers took with 
them a Mexican by the name of Tom Basquez. He 
was a member of the city police and according to 
the testimony of the two murderers after their cap¬ 
ture, was the man who had originated and engineered 
the whole plot. 

At that time, my brother Matt and I were living 
on the old homestead four miles west of Corpus 
Christi. When we learned that the posses had re¬ 
turned and had failed to capture the murderers, we 
decided to make an attempt of our own. We accord¬ 
ingly went to see John and Mike Dunn and had a 
council. Our decision was that we would go in differ¬ 
ent directions and see if we could strike a trail. 

After dark we started in a northerly direction, 
crossing the Nueces River at Borden’s Ferry and 
arriving at Mean’s Village just as day was breaking. 
We then went to the house of a Mr. Britten Means 
and inquired if any strange Mexicans had passed 
there during the last day or so. He stated that he 


A HORRIBLE CRIME 


61 


had seen none himself, but would ask his Mexican 
helper. The Mexican stated that he had seen several 
who were hunting work as sheep herders and that 
since then he had seen some of them in a vacant 
“jacal” about a mile away. Mr. Means now woke his 
brother, Paul, and they went with us. 

We Follow the Clue —We surrounded the “jacal” 
and closed in on it just as daylight came, but it was 
empty and showed no signs of recent occupancy. After 
eating some breakfast, we started out again. We were 
just emerging from the heavy timber through which 
we had been riding, and had started to enter the 
prairie, when we spied a man on horseback coming 
out of the timber on the other side of the prairie 
from where we were. 

We dropped back into the timber out of his sight 
and he started straight toward us. We sent two men, 
one on each side, to ride down through the timber 
and when they saw he was about half way to us 
they were to strike a gallop and fall in behind him. 

When the man got close to us he started to ride 
out to meet us, but immediately afterwards wheeled 
his horse to run. However, when he saw the two men 
behind him, he rode up to us. 

We asked him where the Mexicans were and he 
answered that he did not know. One of the boys then 
stuck a cocked sharp-shooter rifle to his ribs and asked 
him again. Under this persuasion he stated that they 
were about two miles from there in a sheep pen 
about eight feet high. There were thirty of them, he 


62 


PERILOUS TRAILS OF TEXAS 


told us, and they would fight. He also mentioned 
that there were three strangers among them who had 
arrived a few days before. 

On receiving this information, we rode about a 
mile down the timber, then entered the timber that 
the Mexicans were in and found and surrounded the 
pen. It was just twelve o’clock and they were all 
sound asleep. The hard south wind had blown the big 
gate open and we charged right in among them be¬ 
fore they knew we were there. 

John Dunn and I happened to dismount from our 
horses right beside a blanket where two men were 
asleep. One of these, as it was found out later, was 
Hypolita Tapia and the other was Andres Davila, 
the two murderers. When we jerked the cover off 
Hypolita Tapia’s head, he reached under his head 
and jerked out a murral. I then struck him across the 
forehead with my pistol and jerked the murral out 
of his hand. His pistol was in it, and I still have the 
weapon in my possession. 

Tapia then fell on his knees before John Dunn 
and began begging him to spare his life. The mur¬ 
derer had once worked for John and knew him well. 

After satisfying ourselves that these men were the 
only ones implicated in the murder and robbery, we 
took them back to Mean’s Village. When we arrived 
there it was dark, and we placed the prisoners in a 
vacant room under guard. First we took Hypolita 
out and told him that we wanted him to tell us all 
about the murder but he stated that he would con¬ 
fess nothing. Then we took him to a tall mesquite 


A HORRIBLE CRIME 


63 


tree and let him kick a few chunks out of the horizon, 
after which he stated that he was ready to divulge 
everything. 

We then took Tapia back and put him in a sep¬ 
arate room from that in which his companion Was 
confined, after which we went and got Davila. When 
we got him outside the house, he asked us what we 
were going to do with him and we told him that all 
we wanted was a confession. He stated that he was 
ready any time we were and we then returned him to 
his room and took Tapia before Mr. Direc Rachel 
who wrote down first Tapia’s confession and later 
that of Davila which corresponded with that of Tapia 
in every detail. 

Confession of Hypolita Tapia and Andres Davila 
—After being sworn, Tapia was told to go ahead and 
tell everything that had happened from the begin¬ 
ning of the affair to the end. His confession was sub¬ 
stantially as follows: “My name is Hypolita Tapia. 
I was born in Texas and am a vacquero and sheep- 
herder. The first that I heard of the contemplated 
murder was from a Mexican by the name of Telis- 
forio Aguilar with whom I am well acquainted. 
Aguilar is a brother-in-law of Thomas Basquez who 
is a member of the police force of Corpus Christi. 

“Aguilar came to me and told me that Basquez 
was in Mr. Buckley’s store that morning where he 
stated that he had found out that there was a large 
consignment of goods and considerable money going 
to Pensecal in the evening, and that he wanted to 


64 


PERILOUS TRAILS OF TEXAS 


raise ten men to go down and get it. I agreed to do 
this and secured the following men to join me: An¬ 
dres Davila, an American called Joe, Teodoro Agui¬ 
lar, Pancho Luna, Antonio Martinez, Amado Lerma, 
a man called Octaviano and another called Chimito. 
When we arrived at Pensecal we noticed that the boat 
on which the goods had been shipped, was lying out 
some distance from the shore. Therefore, we sup¬ 
posed that the boat had landed the money and the 
goods.” At this point Mr. Rachel began to question 
the prisoner: 

Question: “Were you mistaken in thinking this?” 

Answer: “Yes.” 

Q: “What did you do next?” 

A: “We surrounded the store, and after shooting one man 
who was outside, we went inside and asked for the money.” 

Q: “Did they offer any resistance?” 

A: “No, sir.” 

Q: “Then why did you shoot them?” 

A: “We told them to give us the money and they denied 
having any except what was in the drawer.” 

Q: “How much was in the drawer?” 

A: “Only $12 or $13.” 

Q: “Then what did you do?” 

A: “We commenced shooting them?” 

Q: “Isn’t it a fact that you shot some of them through the 
arms and then made them take goods from the shelf after doing 
so?” 

A: “Yes.” 

Q: “Who was the last man killed?” 

A: “John, they called him.” 

Q: “In what position was John when you killed him?” 

A: “He was on his knees praying.” 

Q: “What did you do after killing them?” 


A HORRIBLE CRIME 


65 


A: “We loaded the horses with things from the store and 
left.” 

Q: “Why did you not go to Mexico instead of coming 
here?” 

A: “I knew that they were shearing sheep and thought I 
could mix with the shearers without anyone finding out that I 
had been implicated in the murder and besides I knew that 
Basquez would keep me posted.” 

By the time that Mr. Rachel had finished writing 
these confessions, a crowd of ranchers had gathered 
around the place and wanted to hang the murderers 
at once. But John and Mike Dunn would not agree 
to it, stating that if they were hung, it would destroy 
all the evidence against Basquez. 

It was finally agreed by everybody that we take 
the murderers back to Corpus Christi. We did so that 
very night and turned them over to the sheriff. A 
reward had been offered for them, but it was never 
tendered to us, and we never asked for it. 

The names of the murdered men were John Mor¬ 
ton, Michael Morton, P. F. M. Coakley and Herman 
Tigner. 

That was all the credit we received through the 
papers for the capture of the murderers. Both Tapia 
and Davila were hung in Corpus Christi. 


Note —The following was all that appeared in the Gazette 
after the capture of the murderers: “Three of the Pensecal mur¬ 
derers have been captured and locked in our jail. We presume 
the balance will be along in good time. Two parties of men are 
in search of them, one under Pat Whalen and the other under 
Bill Rhew.” 



66 


PERILOUS TRAILS OF TEXAS 


Hyfolito’s Brothers Swear Vengeance —After the 
capture of Tapia and Davila, it seemed as though 
we were going to have a spell of quiet for awhile. 
Consequently all the boys except myself scattered 
out to work. I remained alone on the old homestead. 
At night I would go over to my uncle’s, a mile dis¬ 
tant, and remain until I got sleepy, after which I 
would return home. 

One night as I was on my way home, I met one 
of my uncle’s daughters and her husband coming 
home from a neighbor’s. They stopped me and told 
me to turn back as there were a bunch of men in a 
large ‘gully” where I would have to cross. I then 
turned and went back to my uncle’s with them. At 
daylight, I went to the crossing and found horse- 
tracks and the butts of cigarettes. I knew at once 
that something was brewing. 

I heard that day that two of Hypolito’s brothers 
had gotten in from the river and were swearing ven¬ 
geance. That night after dusk, I took my sharp¬ 
shooter and pistol and hid in a corn patch about 30 
feet from the house. At the house, I had four vicious 
dogs that I knew would warn me if any one 
prowled around. About 12 o’clock, I got thirsty and 
went into the house to get a drink of water. Up to 
this time, the dogs had not barked. I slipped in quiet¬ 
ly and went to a table where there was a bucket of 
water with a dipper in it. When I put the dipper to 
my mouth, I thought I felt something in it. So I put 
the dipper down and without thinking, lighted a 
match and lit the lamp. 


A HORRIBLE CRIME 


67 


1 am Attacked —No sooner had I done this, than 
there was an explosion that put the lamp out. At first 
I thought the lamp had exploded. It was so dark 
that I could not find the doors. I could feel a sting¬ 
ing on my face and hands and could smell blood, and 
at last I realized that a shot had been fired. Then for 
the first time the dogs began to bark. I began calling 
the boys by name, so that the prowlers would hear 
me and think that a number of us were there. Then 
the thought struck me that they might fire the house. 
So I jerked the door open and crawled to the corner 
of the house and squatted there. I could see no one 
as the night was as black as Egypt. Then I heard a 
big laugh and knew that the prowlers thought they 
had hit me. I opened fire on them but it was too dark 
for me to see anything. 

It was only two days after this that I joined Wal¬ 
lace’s Company of Rangers. While a member of that 
force, I had the opportunity of again meeting these 
nocturnal friends of mine and we arranged every¬ 
thing satisfactorily. The debt has been paid in full 
with interest. 


Note —Afterwards I found that the shots were fired from 
two Winchester Carbines. One of the shots did not get inside, 
but buried itself in the window frame. The other came through 
the center of the window pane, through my vest and struck the 
glass bowl of the kerosene lamp. It was pieces from the lamp that 
cut my face and hands. 



CHAPTER VIII 


With Wallace’s Company 

Trouble with Mexicans —After leaving the Ross 
Brothers in San Antonio, my brother Matt and I 
returned to Corpus Christi. Shortly after we arrived, 
it seemed as if all the hell in the Mexican race had 
broken loose. The country was overrun with Mexi¬ 
can cattle and horse thieves as well as cut-throats. 
In the lower country called “the sand” thousands of 
heads of cattle belonging to the stockmen were killed 
and their hides sold to American merchants who 
boldly built stores for the purpose of disposing of 
the stolen goods. 

I Join the Rangers Again —Things finally came to 
such a pass that Warren W. Wallace was authorized 
to organize a company of men and chase the bandits 
into Mexico if necessary. My brother James and I 
joined his company which established its headquar¬ 
ters at the Mexican town of Concepcion. In a short 
time we captured a number of troublesome Mexicans. 
We also discovered that most of the depredations 
were incited by renegade white men who were living 
among the Mexicans and were profiting by their 
crimes. 

Sam, the Renegade —There was one man among 
68 


WITH WALLACE’S COMPANY 


69 


them, an American whom I shall call Sam, who 
eventually caused us a lot of trouble. When we first 
went to Concepcion he paid no attention to us. After 
awhile he became very friendly with the captain and 
was around him all the time. One evening he came 
in late and went to the captain’s quarters. Just at 
dusk we received orders to saddle up and were started 
in the direction of the Nueces River. Sam and the 
captain accompanied us. 

The next morning we found ourselves at Legarto 
and went into camp there. The first night we were 
there a Mexican circus came in and pitched its tent. 

Suspicious Proceedings —Just before the perform¬ 
ance began, while I was talking with the second lieu¬ 
tenant, Lark Ferguson, Sam came along with the pro¬ 
prietor of the circus. They talked together for a few 
moments and then turned and walked over to us. 

Sam introduced Ferguson to the Mexican who was 
pretty well loaded with booze. The Mexican stepped 
back saying, “So this is Elario, is it?” with which 
words he spit at Ferguson and began hissing at him. 
(Elario was Ferguson’s name in Spanish.) 

As Ferguson reached for his pistol, the Mexican 
threw his arms around him and threw him to the 
ground, at the same time reaching for a knife in his 
belt. Then some one struck the Mexican across the 
back of the neck and laid him out for awhile. He 
then tied his hands. 

As soon as he could walk, Ferguson told two of 
the Rangers to take the prisoner out to the race track 


70 


PERILOUS TRAILS OF TEXAS 


and hold him under guard, as he intended to go out 
and find out what all the trouble was about. 

In a short time he called me saying, “Come with 
me out to the race track, and we’ll find out what is 
the matter with that prisoner.” When we got within 
twenty or thirty feet of him, he sprang and made a 
dash at Ferguson who fired at him striking him 
between the eyes. He then put his foot on the Mexi¬ 
can’s neck and fired two more shots into his head. 

Next day his troupe buried him and packed up and 
left for Mexico. About a week afterwards Ferguson 
and I were surprised to learn that the troupe had 
deposited a $1,000 reward for myself and Ferguson. 
$500.00 each. 

After staying at Lagarto a couple more days, we 
went back to Concepcion, where we heard that the 
bandit, Caballo Blanco, and his partner had made a 
big raid, taking hundreds of cattle and horses across 
the border. 

At Concepcion we also heard a great deal about 
our trip to Lagarto. But something happened in a 
short time that caused us to forget the incident for 
the time being. 

The Shooting of Mark Judd —One day three or 
four of us left camp to go to town, that is, to the 
village of Concepcion which was about two miles 
from where we were stationed. On our way in we 
met two of our boys on their way back to camp. One 
of them was riding a race horse that belonged to 
Lieutenant Ferguson. The rider, who was pretty full 


WITH WALLACE’S COMPANY 


71 


of booze began wallowing around on his horse and 
talking very loud. His actions excited the horse, and 
as the other horses also began moving, he thought it 
was a race that was coming off and wheeled and ran in 
the opposite direction, as fast as he could go. We 
knew it would only make matters worse if we tried 
to catch him, as this would only make him ride faster 
and he had the fastest horse in the company. 

In a few moments both he and the horse disap¬ 
peared in the chaparral and we rode on in the direc¬ 
tion of Concepcion. When we got in sight of the 
captain’s quarters, we saw the horse going there in 
a dead run, with the rider, Mark Judd, hanging over 
on the horses shoulder. Both Judd and the horse 
were covered with blood. 

When the horse halted at the door of the captain’s 
quarters, we eased Judd down and saw that he had 
been shot in the eye with a small caliber pistol, and 
that one side of his face was laid open with a 
machete. (Mexican knife.) He was unconscious and 
could say nothing. 

We got on the trail of the blood and followed it to 
a Mexican jacal (house) where even the door was 
spattered with blood. We found no men within, but 
only women and children who denied any knowledge 
of the affair. 

The Fight at the “Jacal ”—We threw guards 
around this “jacal” and several others in the vicinity 
until more of the boys came so that we could search 
the premises thoroughly. Dave Odem, Billie McKin- 


72 


PERILOUS TRAILS OF TEXAS 


tosh, myself and one other guarded the first “jacal” 
to which we had trailed the blood. 

We were in a vacant garden or path overgrown 
with tall weeds, when I heard a noise behind me. I 
turned around and there lying on his stomach with 
a machete in his hand, was a Mexican. About ten 
feet from this one was another Mexican grasping a 
club of mesquite wood. 

We captured and disarmed them and found that 
they had crawled about thirty yards toward us before 
we spotted them. 

The one who had the machete had a mop of friz¬ 
zly hair that looked more like a buffalo’s mop than 
anything else. Right away one of the boys whom we 
called Chubby Cody, named him old Moss Top. The 
latter was in his shirt sleeves and his body was cov¬ 
ered with awful sores from which the stench was 
terrible. 

We lost no time in getting to camp with our pris¬ 
oners. When we arrived there, a scout under Steve 
Burleson came in and asked us what we had with us. 
We told him the circumstances and he thereupon 
threw a noose around Moss Top’s neck and began 
throwing the other end of the rope over a tree. Just 
then Captain Wallace and some more of the boys 
came running up. At first the captain tried to bluff 
the boys out of hanging the prisoner, but when that 
did not work, he gave them his word of honor as a 
gentleman that if they would desist, he would keep 
him under guard until the Grand Jury was in ses¬ 
sion and would turn him over to the law. 


WITH WALLACE’S COMPANY 


73 


The Captain Breaks His Word and its Conse¬ 
quences —A few days later we learned that Moss 
Top had been liberated. The boys put spies on his 
track and found that at a certain time every evening 
he took a rope and his machete and went after wood 
to the creek. 

The next day, two of the boys hid in a gully that 
ran into the creek and caught him easily. They made 
him mount behind one of them and tied his legs 
underneath the horse’s belly so that if he happened 
to fall or jump, he could not escape. 

Then they struck a run for a small lake in the mes- 
quite brush which was surrounded by mesquite tim¬ 
ber, but they could not find a tree large enough or 
high enough to swing him clear of the ground. After 
losing considerable time trying to find one, they 
sighted a tree that forked high enough from the 
ground to fasten his head in the forks and leave his 
toes about four inches from the ground. They then 
jammed his head into the fork of the tree, took the 
end of the rope and put it around his neck and one of 
the forks of the tree. Then they tied the other end 
of the rope around the horn of the saddle and made 
the horse pull until the man’s neck was broken. After 
this they removed the rope that they had used and 
tied him with his own rope. 

He was not found for several days and it was in 
the month of August 3 the weather was very warm 
and showery. Consequently the body was a terrible 
sight, swollen beyond recognition and emitting a ter¬ 
rible odor. 


74 


PERILOUS TRAILS OF TEXAS 


The Mexicans pretended that they were afraid to 
take him down and the Rangers refused to do so, so 
they sent to Santa Gertrudis (King’s Ranch) for a 
detail of negro soldiers who came and buried him. 

Mark Judd, the man whom he had shot and 
stabbed, recovered, but he was blind in one eye and 
carried a scar from his hair down the side of his neck. 

Lieutenant Ferguson and the Signal Man —The 
worst place for scouting that I ever saw was on the 
Frio River. There the chaparral and prickly pears 
were so dense that it was almost impossible to ride 
through them. I have seen prickly pears as tall as a 
man on horseback. About the only living thing that 
one could see would be javelinas and rattlesnakes and 
the stench from both of them would keep the horses 
continually snorting. It was almost impossible to 
follow a trail, on account of the Mexican signal men 
who were posted on the summits of the high hills. 

At this time we were on the trail of a Mexican 
bandit by the name of Alberto Garza, who had stolen 
a number of horses and was hiding in that section. 
We had been there several days, but Garza’s signal 
man kept him well posted and he gave us the slip. 

One day Lieutenant Ferguson said to me, “I am 
going to get one of those birds this morning.” 
Accordingly, he ordered the company to saddle their 
horses and be ready to move when wanted. He told 
them that if they heard two shots in succession to 
come in a hurry. 

We rode toward a large hill, higher than the rest, 


WITH WALLACE’S COMPANY 


75 


and when we got about half way, we saw smoke 
curling up from it. We rode as fast as possible fol¬ 
lowing a dry gully that led near it and when we got 
close, Ferguson got off his horse and handed me the 
bridle reins, telling me to follow slowly as he was 
going to try to slip up on the signal man. 

Suddenly I heard his sharp-shooter boom. About 
the same time, he yelled, “Come on, I have got 
him.” The signal-man was as dead as a nail. The 
bullet had hit him in the neck, breaking it. 

We then fired two shots and the rest of the boys 
came. We found the man’s old burro tied in the 
gully and turned him loose, and also found a sack 
with old pieces of bootlegs, shoes, and a can of tallow 
used to color the smoke. 


CHAPTER IX 


With Wallace’s Company —Continued 

Ferguson and the Dutchman —One day about 
noon, as we were going to strike camp, several of the 
boys with Lieutenant Ferguson started out to get a 
calf for meat. As there were no cattle in sight, they 
scattered in different directions to find them. 

A few minutes after they parted, we heard some 
fast shooting in a certain direction and started in a 
run toward where the sound was coming from. When 
we got close enough, we saw Ferguson riding in cir¬ 
cles and shooting at some one who was behind a tree 
shooting at him. 

We gave a yell so that the Lieutenant would know 
that help was at hand. When we were within a couple 
of hundred yards, we saw the man behind the tree 
fall over. Then Ferguson dismounted and raised up 
the man’s head. He had been shot through the 
shoulder and his collar bone was broken. 

It was a mistake on both sides for each one had 
mistaken the other for Mexicans, since both were 
wearing large Mexican hats. The man who was shot 
was a Dutchman in the employ of a sheep man by 
the name of Staples. He had been in this country but 
a short time and did not understand the Mexican 


76 


WITH WALLACE’S COMPANY 


77 


language which Ferguson spoke to him. So he got 
excited and began shooting. 

The tree behind which he had taken refuge, was 
a very small one but Ferguson put three bullets in 
it. When he saw his mistake, he went to the ranch 
and got a wagon and team and sent the wounded man 
back to his employer. He recovered but his neck was 
always crooked. Several times afterwards we ate 
dinner at the same ranch. It was comical to see how 
the Dutchman would look at Ferguson while waiting 
on the table where we were eating. 

Trouble with the Mexican Pastores —In Wallace’s 
Company it was a common occurrence to be called at 
any hour of the night for scout duty. On one par¬ 
ticular occurrence, there was no bread cooked in camp 
and it was so dark that the pack mule could not be 
found. So we started for the Frio without anything 
to eat. 

The next day we found a herd of goats and filled 
up on goat meat. We had received word that a bunch 
of horses had been stolen and had been seen to enter 
the brush near the Frio River. 

After devouring the goat meat, we had nothing 
else to eat all day. That night at dusk, we came to a 
small glade or opening in the chaparral with a small 
pond of muddy water in it. We dismounted and 
staked our horses, intending to remain there all night. 
The water was so muddy that we had to take prickly 
pear leaves, cut the thorns from them and split the 
leaves, and drop them in the water to settle it. 


78 


PERILOUS TRAILS OF TEXAS 


The drought and hunger seemed to affect a boy 
named Chubby and myself more than any one else 
in the company. As we were sitting on our blankets 
Chubby suddenly said to me, “Look, is that a star or 
a light?” I looked in the direction he pointed and saw 
a peculiar light. It would flame up for a second or 
so and then disappear and come again, seeming not 
to be over five hundred yards from us. 

When we found that everybody was asleep, we 
slipped our saddles out to where our horses were 
staked, saddled the animals and struck out to inves¬ 
tigate. After riding over a mile, we came to the foot 
of a high hill, and could see then that the light was 
right on top of it. We then dismounted and climbed 
the hill on foot by crawling. When we got about 
half way up, we stopped and formed the following 
plan: 

If we found two in the camp we had discovered, 
Chubby was to crawl to the right hand man and jump 
astraddle of him and I was to do the same with the 
one on the left. As we drew nearer, we saw what was 
making the light. It was a side of mutton ribs broil¬ 
ing before the fire, and when the hot grease from 
it would drop on the fire it would blaze up and then 
die down until the next drop fell. 

We rushed to the attack. I happened to control my 
man all right, but Chubby did not have such good 
luck. His prisoner bucked like a bronco and throw¬ 
ing Chubby over, escaped into the brush. Chubby 
fired three shots at him as he ran, and we then began 
to feast on the mutton ribs. 


WITH WALLACE’S COMPANY 


79 


We could hear the boys in camp firing guns and 
yelling through the brush for us, but we were too 
busy to answer just then and let them hunt until we 
had finished our feast, to the disgust of our prisoners. 

We then fired a few shots and let them find us, 
after which we went to the sheep pen which was 
within thirty steps of the captured camp and got sev¬ 
eral fine muttons which we took to camp. We dressed 
and ate three of them before daylight. The taste of 
that mutton always comes back to me when I am 
hungry. 

I trust that the Frio country is better now than it 
was then. Adios Frio. 

Duel Between Buck Harris and Joe Osgood —Both 
Harris and Osgood were members of Wallace’s 
Company. Osgood was an industrious, hard-working 
man while Harris was exactly the reverse. At roll 
call each morning, it was customary to detail men 
for the day for various duties. 

One morning Harris had been detailed to bring 
in a beef for meat. When notified, he pretended that 
he was sick and refused to go. Osgood then offered 
to go and did so. In half an hour he returned with 
a beef. He then rode around a mesquite tree and 
tying the rope to it, pulled out his pistol, shot the 
beef and began to skin it. 

He had it about one third skinned when Harris 
came walking up to him. “What are you going to do 
Buck?” said Osgood. “I am going to cut myself a 
piece of meat,” replied Buck. “No you are not,” 


80 


PERILOUS TRAILS OF TEXAS 


answered Joe, “for it was your day to bring in the 
meat and you refused.” 

With that Harris reached for his pistol and Joe 
did likewise. They both fired at the same time. Joe’s 
ball entered Buck’s right arm below the shoulder, 
shattering it to pieces. Harris’ ball struck Joe squarely 
in the middle of the pistol belt going through four 
doubles of leather, passing through his bladder and 
breaking his hip-bone to pieces. 

When Joe fell back, he rested on one hand and 
tried to cock his pistol again, but it was a Smith and 
Wesson having a very short hammer and his thumb 
would slip on it. 

I ran to him and eased his head onto my thigh and 

he exclaimed, “The-has got me, John.” I said, 

“No, Joe, you will be all right.” But in a minute he 
was dead. 

Harris afterward recovered but his hand and arm 
shrank away to where it was no larger than a child’s. 

If the tales that an older member of the company 
used to tell on him were true, he was certainly cold¬ 
blooded. This man stated that Harris had gone up 
the trail to Kansas the year before, there being a 
youngster along of not over fourteen or fifteen 
years of age. One day while in camp in the Indian 
nation, the boss of the herd sent Harris and the boy 
over to a pond after a bucket of water. Some time 
later, they heard a shot in the direction that the two 
had gone. They paid little attention thinking they 
were shooting at prairie dogs. 

Finally they became uneasy as Harris and the boy 



WITH WALLACE’S COMPANY 


81 


did not return, and started a man out to look for 
them. In a few moments he returned, saying, “I see 
Buck coming now.” The latter came into camp and 
set the bucket down. “Where is the boy?” they 

asked him. He answered, “I killed the-.” They 

asked him why he had done it and he explained that 
he had asked him to carry the bucket of water and 
the boy had refused to do so. 

Buck was never tried for this murder. About a 
year after killing Osgood, he got into trouble with a 
gambler over a game of cards. He called the latter a 
foul name and reached for his pistol but the gambler 
was too quick for him. He shot him in the mouth 
killing him instantly. 

Rancho Del Toro —Out near the Rio Grande was 
a ranch, which for convenience, I shall call Del Toro. 
It was situated in a valley and surrounded on all 
sides by high hills, becoming a rendezvous for all the 
outlaws in this particular section. We heard several 
times of men that we wanted being there but could 
not find them when we arrived. 

At last, myself and the second lieutenant laid a 
plot to catch some of them. We rode into the ranch 
one day and inquired for persons for whom we gave 
fictitious names. They stated, of course, that they did 
not know these people. We then bought some things 
at their store and went into camp near a well about 
a hundred yards from them. Late in the evening, we 
returned to the store and inquired the way to a ranch 
about twenty miles from there, asking the store- 



82 


PERILOUS TRAILS OF TEXAS 


keeper to give us a guide, which he did. When dusk 
came, we started in the direction of the ranch about 
which we had inquired. 

After we had traveled about four miles, the lieu¬ 
tenant halted us, telling us to take the bridles off the 
horses and lie down holding them by their ropes so 
that they could graze. We then tied the guide to a 
tree till we were ready to start. Near day-break we be¬ 
gan moving back to El Toro where we arrived just 
before dawn. 

The Lieutenant gave orders for the company to 
form a circle around the ranch behind the hills, tell¬ 
ing us that when we heard him shoot from a certain- 
direction, one man on each of the four sides of the 
ranch was to fire a shot at the same time. As the 
shots were fired, the whole command was to start in 
a fast run and close in on the ranch. 

Up to the time the shots were fired, the Mexicans 
at the ranch had suspected nothing. But when they 
saw men coming down the hills, Bedlam broke loose. 
Some even tried to run past the horsemen to get 
into the brush but were compelled to turn back. They 
then confined themselves to running from one house 
to another. 

As soon as we had quieted them, the Lieutenant 
and I went into the store and asked for one of the 
Mexicans for whom we were searching. The man 
replied that he was not there. With that, the lieu¬ 
tenant threw his gun down on him and told him to 
produce the man. The store-keeper turned to a peon 
who was standing by and told him to go after the 


WITH WALLACE’S COMPANY 


83 


man. The latter went into another room and brought 
him out. 

After satisfying ourselves that no more of the men 
whom we wanted were there, we went into camp and 
began to prepare dinner. While we were so engaged, 
two Mexicans came riding up to the well where we 
were camped and stopped to talk to another Mexican. 
Just then one of our own Mexican scouts jumped to 
his feet and jerked one of the Mexicans off his horse. 
He was going to shoot him but we prevented this and 
asked him who the man was. 

The scout stated that he was one of the worst 
Mexicans in that country, that he had stabbed him 
(the scout), and left him for dead the year before, 
and that after stabbing him had stolen his horse and 
ravished his wife. He asked us to deputize him and 
two other Mexicans to take the prisoners to head¬ 
quarters. We did this as we had to go to another 
ranch 30 miles from there on other business. When 
we arrived at headquarters, we found that the scouts 
with the prisoners had not arrived. Later the scouts 
came in and reported that the other Mexicans had 
attacked them and that the prisoners had gotten 
killed. 

The Reappearance of Sam —Some time after our 
trip to Lagarto, Sam had disappeared but now he 
turned up again and began to get friendly with all 
the boys and especially with the captain. He told 
some of the boys confidentially that he had discov¬ 
ered that they were soon to be disbanded and that 
when that happened, he would lead us to a place 


84 


PERILOUS TRAILS OF TEXAS 


where over a million dollars was concealed in a 
vault where it would be as easy to secure as taking 
candy from a child. He said it was on the opposite 
bank of the Rio Grande and that we could cross over 
and get it and be back in an hour. He explained 
that he wanted to hold us together after we were dis¬ 
banded and that we would start at once. Some of the 
boys placed confidence in him and others did not. 

In a few weeks we were ordered to disband but 
scarcely half of the company would go. Theodore 
Priour and myself went into Bee and other counties 
trying to recruit men. We established three different 
points between here and the Rio Grande at which 
to hold our men until the final start. Now one ren¬ 
dezvous was on the Nueces River and the other at 
the Los Olmos Ranch. 

John Priour, Frank Bogus, Steve Burleson and one 
other were stationed at Los Olmos, the men enlisted 
by Theodore Priour and myself were stationed on 
the Nueces River to wait until we came. When Priour 
and I could get no more men we went to the ren¬ 
dezvous on the Nueces and found it vacant. 

We then started for Los Olmos, but before we 
arrived there we heard that the boys had had a fight 
with some raiders and were supposed to have gone 
home to Corpus. We then rested for a few days and 
started for Corpus. 

One evening John Priour and a couple of the boys 
blew in. Priour said that some Mexicans attacked the 
store at Los Olmos, not knowing that the boys were 
there, as they were camped behind a horse pen. When 


WITH WALLACE’S COMPANY 


85 


they opened fire on the Mexicans, the Mexicans ran 
and then the boys concluded that they would go on 
to Guerrero and see if any of us had arrived. 

John Priour and Frank Bogus crossed the river, 
leaving two men in camp on this side. As soon as they 
stepped ashore, they were arrested by the Mexican 
guards and taken before the Alcalde who grinned 
and asked them where the rest of the boys were. 
Priour told them that the other two were on the 
other side. 

They were then turned over to a file of soldiers, 
four of whom took Bogus with them to point out 
their camp. That evening Priour was summoned 
again before the Alcalde. He told Priour that Sam, 
the man who had advised us in the scheme, had told 
him about our expected raid, and that there was a 
reward of $1,000 out for myself and Ferguson, 
which he would consider sufficient payment for be¬ 
traying our party. 

He then showed Priour around the city and the 
garrison. There were about 900 troops in the place 
and all the flat-roofed houses were bristling with 
cannon. We would have been annihilated before we 
could have gotten into the town. After satisfying 
himself that there were no more of us, the Alcalde 
permitted us to take our leave. 

Something must have happened to Sam, as he 
failed to report either to his Mexican friends or to us. 
However, may the Rio Grande sing his lullaby. 

To people not acquainted with conditions and cus¬ 
toms at that time, our frustrated plan might have 


86 


PERILOUS TRAILS OF TEXAS 


been classified as an attempt at robbery, but there 
was a more respectful name for it. It was called 
filibustering, and it must be borne in mind that 
the Mexicans generally made about six raids to one 
made by Americans, or in other words, “y° u scratch 
my back, and I’ll scratch yours.” 

Murder of Mr . Hatch —On the 7th of June, 
1872, Mr. George Hatch, an old and respected citi¬ 
zen, was shot to death in his buggy on the north side 
of the “reef.” This happened in full view of the 
town. Mr. Hatch was an early settler who owned a 
splendid vineyard at Ingleside. His habit of making 
a weekly trip to Corpus Christi for mail and supplies 
was undoubtedly known to his assassins, who laid in 
wait and shot him on one of these occasions. 

The old man fell across the dashboard of his 
buggy and was in a kneeling position. The murderers 
had cut out his pockets and robbed him after which 
they took his horses from his buggy and fled. Out¬ 
side of five or six persons no one knows whether they 
were caught or not. 

Mr. Hatch was 83 years of age when he was 
murdered. Several years after his death, we captured 
some Mexican murderers and got a confession from 
them in which they named the two men who had 
murdered Mr. Hatch. Every time we captured 
a Mexican we listened to his confession and placed 
the names he gave us in our plug hats for future 
reference. But instead of giving them absolution for 
their sins, we transferred that part of the matter to 


WITH WALLACE’S COMPANY 


87 


the Deity and left them to settle it with Him, as we 
claimed no jurisdiction over such matters. 

It is sometimes amusing to hear people say that 
the murderers of so-and-so in those days were never 
caught. Well, ignorance is bliss. 


CHAPTER X 


The Mexican Raid 

The Warning —On the morning of the 26th of 
April, 1875, my brother Matt and I, together with 
Patt and George Dunn, rode to town to look after 
some business. We had just returned home and un¬ 
saddled our horses when one of the Stevens boys from 
Tule Lake came in a run and handed us a note. The 
note was from John Dunn telling us that the Mexi¬ 
cans were robbing the Page house at Tule Lake. He 
told us to hurry up and come and that he would join 
us as we passed his house. He also told us to send 
Stevens to town as quickly as possible, as he was also 
sending a letter to John McClane, the sheriff, tell¬ 
ing him to send men to help as there would be only 
four of us against about seventy Mexicans. 

After starting Stevens to town, we re-saddled our 
horses and started in a gallop for Tule Lake. As 
we passed John Dunn’s place, he joined us and we 
went on feeling that it would be but a few moments 
until a company with rifles headed by the sheriff 
would be with us. 

When we arrived at Page’s, we found no one there 
but two girls, one of them being a Miss Louisa Rains, 
a sister of Mrs. Chas. Golihar of Sunshine, Texas j 
88 



Burning of Noakes Store by Mexican Raiders 

April 26, 1875 














THE MEXICAN RAID 


89 


and a daughter of Mr. Page. They told us that when 
the raiders had taken everything they wanted, they 
took all the men on the place prisoners and started 
toward the Juan Saenz ranch. At that time the ranch 
was considerably larger than it is now. So we started 
out after the Mexicans. 

When we arrived there, we found the raiders 
busy rounding up the stock and the prisoners. They 
had the latter lined up against George Frank’s store. 
We took position about a thousand or eight hundred 
yards from them where we could see everything that 
took place and also watch the road. It had now been 
three hours since we had sent word to town and 
we had received no aid as yet. John Dunn then told 
us if we would keep watch, that he would go to town 
and see if he could raise a few men. 

Mr. Borden is Taken Prisoner —He then took a 
short-cut and started off at a gallop. Shortly after 
he left, Mr. Sidney Borden, a merchant and justice 
of the peace, of Sharpsburg, came driving up in his 
buggy. We stopped him, showed him the Mexicans, 
telling him what they were doing and advising him 
to turn back. He stated that he did not think they 
would molest him and drove on. We saw three 
Mexicans ride out to where he was approaching and 
escort him over to where the prisoners were. It 
seemed that there were more people traveling that 
road that day than we had ever seen in a day before. 

Capture of Mike Dunn —Shortly after Borden’s 
capture, Mike Dunn, a brother of John Dunn, drove 


90 


PERILOUS TRAILS OF TEXAS 


up in a buggy right into the midst of the Mexicans. 
The leader rode out and stopped him, taking a 
Sharp’s Carbine that Mike had in the buggy and told 
him to hand over his ammunition. He had only four 
or five cartridges in his pocket which he gave them. 
The leader told Mike to tell his wife, who was with 
him, not to be uneasy as she would not be harmed. 

A Prisoner is Killed —While rounding up the 
prisoners, the Mexicans drove a bunch of other Mexi¬ 
cans out of a “jacal” and started them to where the 
other prisoners were under guard. While on the way, 
one of the new prisoners wheeled around and started 
to run back toward the “jacal”. One of the raiders 
put his Winchester to the man’s head and blew his 
brains out. Later we learned that the unfortunate 
man was an idiot. 

The Star Rifles Refuse to Help —It was now 
beginning to grow late, and we feared that perhaps 
John had been waylaid, as it did not seem reason¬ 
able that people would act in that manner, refusing 
to send help. There was a company of Star Rifles 
fully equipped in Corpus and not one of them left 
town that day. 

We Pursue the Ladies —When the raiders were 
ready to leave the Juan Saenz Ranch, they rounded 
up all the men prisoners and drove them ahead, going 
straight up the old Nuecestown road. They left the 
women behind at the ranch. 

As soon as they moved out, we moved in. Some 
of the women saw us advancing and thought we were 


THE MEXICAN RAID 


91 


more Mexicans, so a number of them ran into the 
chaparral. We caught them and brought them back 
to the ranch. We also caught some horses that the 
raiders had left and started the ladies for town, 
hitching the horses to the buggies that the raiders had 
captured. Some of the ladies were not found for a 
couple of days, being finally located by Charlie 
McKenzie and his brother. 

Meanwhile the raiders were driving the prisoners 
ahead of them in a long trot, beating them with quirts 
and ropes and punching them with their guns and 
pistols. Just as we were leaving the ranch on their 
trail, we met a stockman by the name of Bass Bur¬ 
ris, (a relative of Martin Culver’s). With him was 
Clem Vetters, now janitor of the high school, and 
three Mexicans. All the Mexicans were unarmed. We 
then took the trail again, still expecting help from 
town. When we caught up with the raiders, we were 
at the Noakes store at Nuecestown. It was nearly sun¬ 
down, but there was still no help from Corpus. 

The raiders were not seen from the store until 
they had the place surrounded. Most of them dis¬ 
mounted. Mr. Noakes was in a back room and hear¬ 
ing a noise in front, he rushed out. Just as he reached 
the front door, a Mexican came rushing in with a 
cocked Winchester in his hand. Noakes fired at him 
and shot him through the breast. With that Noakes 
dropped through a trap door in the floor and into 
some trenches underground. Another man by the 
name of Smith, who happened to be there, followed 
Noakes into the trench. 


92 


PERILOUS TRAILS OF TEXAS 


The Mexicans entered the store, and after piling 
up outside all that they wanted to confiscate, they 
set fire to the building, hoping to burn Noakes out. 
Everytime they would get the fire started, Mrs. 
Noakes would pour water on it. So at last two of 
them caught her and held her until the fire got a 
good start. 

Shooting of Smith —In the meantime, Mr. Noakes 
held the trench. But finally the smoke and heat got 
so bad that Smith crawled out and made a run for 
the river. Some of the raiders followed him and shot 
him down. He fell on his face and they put their 
carbines to his back and shot him four times, all the 
balls coming out of his breast. Two years ago I 
heard from him and he was still alive and hearty. 

The Raiders Leave the Store —As the raiders did 
not know that Noakes had another man with him, 
they thought that they had killed Noakes when they 
got Smith, and were, therefore, satisfied. They took 
the wounded Mexican that Noakes had shot and put 
him in a wagon also piling in the goods they had stolen 
from the store. They also put in several prisoners 
among them Billy McKenzie, a brother of Chas. Mc¬ 
Kenzie of Nuecestown, and Judge Ball of Nueces- 
town. They now started in a southwest direction 
leaving the main road. The sun was almost setting. 

John Dunn Returns —Just at that time John 
returned from town. He had only four men with 
him, my brother James, Pat Whalen, a man from 
Duval County named Swank and Walsh Mussett. 


THE MEXICAN RAID 


93 


John informed us that the people of Corpus would 
not send anyone, because they claimed they needed 
the men there. We then concluded that we would 
not let the Mexicans go without giving them a slight 
reception. 

The Reception Committee Acts —The raiders had 
taken a trail into the chaparral. One of the boys 
informed us that a short distance away the trail 
forked in opposite directions and that it would be a 
good idea for two men with good horses to go ahead 
of the rest and see which trail they were taking. 
John Dunn and Swank volunteered to go. A few 
hundred yards ahead we met John Dunn coming 
back alone. We asked him where Swank was and he 
said he did not know as he had gone in the opposite 
direction and he had not seen him since. He told us 
that the raiders were all congregated around the 
wagon in a small glade in the mesquite. 

The raiders were continually firing off their arms, 
so it was not hard to trail them. When we came 
upon them in the glade, they were all congregated 
around the wagon that held the prisoners, the 
wounded Mexican that Noakes had shot, and the loot 
from the stores. 

We were within a hundred yards of them before 
they saw us. When we started to charge them, the 
man Burris, told his three unarmed Mexicans to line 
up along side of him, threatening to shoot them if 
they turned back but just as soon as we started after 
the raiders two of them wheeled their horses and 


94- 


PERILOUS TRAILS OF TEXAS 


broke away through space. The bullets were singing 
lullabies all around us. Among them we could recog¬ 
nize the sound of Mike Dunn’s old sharp-shooter of 
which he had been relieved at Juan Saenz. The lead 
in the end of the cartridges had been split down to 
the brass shell and their scream was like the wail of 
a lost soul. 

Before we reached the raiders, they broke and 
scattered like a covey of quail. At the same time the 
prisoners jumped out of the back end of the wagon 
and scattered in the brush. It was then dusk and 
soon they were out of sight and we were out of 
ammunition. Some of us had two or three cartridges, 
and the most any of us had was five. 

We then returned to W. M. McGregor’s store at 
Nuecestown, but could get nothing but .44 rim- 
fire cartridges which would fit the Winchesters and 
.44 Colt pistol cartridges. Three of us were armed 
with .50 caliber sharpshooters. When we arrived at 
the store, there were a number of men assembled 
there. 

We tried to get them to come with us to Banquette, 
where there were several ranches at which we could 
probably secure help, but they positively refused to 
go with us to overtake the raiders. That is, they all 
refused except one man, a Mr. Hunter. The others 
stated that it would be suicide to think of it, believ¬ 
ing that we would be waylaid and murdered. 

We Follow the Raiders —However, we started 
with the one recruit for Banquette. We had had no 


THE MEXICAN RAID 


95 


dinner and no supper and were hungry when we ar¬ 
rived at daybreak next morning. However, Mr. T. 
Hines Clark gave us a fine breakfast. 

Had the raiders known how we were fixed in 
regard to ammunition they could have turned on us 
and cleaned us up in a very few minutes. One of 
the Mexicans that was with Burris stayed right with 
us during the whole time of the shooting. His name 
was Jesus Seguira. I shall have occasion to mention 
him in a later article. He was as brave as they make 
them. Years before he had been one of Cortina’s 
lieutenants during that celebrated bandit’s raids on 
the Texas border and he knew Mexican tactics to a 
finish. He had but one fault and that was drunken¬ 
ness. When he was drunk he was very dangerous. 


Note —The names of the men that took part in the fight 
with the raiders were as follows: Matt Dunn, John Dunn, Pat 
Dunn, James Dunn, Bass Burris, Clem Vetters, George Dunn, 
Walsh Mussett, Jesus Seguira, Pat Whalen and myself. There 
was also George Swank who was killed. 



CHAPTER XI 


The Trip to the Sand 

The First Trif —My brother Matt, George Dunn 
and myself joined Capt. T. Hines Clark’s Company 
and started for the “Sand” or lower country, where 
there were a large number of Mexican ranches, 
among them “El Travisado,” “La Mesa,” “La 
Prieta,” “Mesquite,” and others that I cannot now 
recall. All these ranches harbored large groups of 
men whose sole occupation was killing cattle belong¬ 
ing to American stock men. The hides they sold to 
merchants who had small stores at some of the 
ranches. At most of the ranches were large buildings 
packed full of dried hides in addition to pits dug in 
the sand that were also filled with dry hides. 

At the Mesquite ranch a man named Blaine had a 
store and purchased hides from the Mexicans. I will 
have occasion to mention him later. 

When we reached the “Sand” we found the whole 
country covered with the carcasses of cattle that had 
been killed for their hides. I will not state if we cap¬ 
tured any of the raiders in our travels, because if we 
did, and they sent any message back, I have forgot¬ 
ten it. We remained only a short time and then 
returned. 


96 


THE TRIP TO THE SAND 


97 


Our Second Trip —After being home a few days, 
we heard that the Mexicans were gathering in force 
and we hurried back with the intention of meeting 
them. When we arrived at the ranches, we found 
them deserted. But when we came to the mesquite 
ranch, we were surprised to find the man Blaine 
standing in the door of his store with two pistols 
around his waist. As there was no one in particular 
in charge of our expedition at the time, we had 
no understanding as to what disposal to make of 
Blaine. In fact we did not expect to find him there. 

So we rode up to the porch and stopped there on 
our horses, no one saying a word. At last Blaine said, 
“Is that the crowd from the river?” 

Just as he spoke, a Mexican came walking up the 
steps. When he got to the door where Blaine stood, 
one of the boys told him to halt. With that he 
grabbed for one of his pistols and was instantly rid¬ 
dled by some one. Blaine then slammed the door 
shut, after firing one of his pistols at us. As he did 
this, we fired a volley into the door. Thereafter, the 
firing became general from inside and out. 

The shooting had been going on for about fifteen 
minutes, when we saw a white flag sticking on top of 
a small lookout on the building. We stopped shooting 
and Blaine stuck his head out and asked us what we 
wanted of him. One of the men told him we wanted 
the keys to the store as we wished to search for stolen 
hides. He asked us to give him fifteen minutes, which 
we agreed to do. When the time was up, he was noti¬ 
fied but would make no answer. 


98 


PERILOUS TRAILS OF TEXAS 


The shooting commenced again. There were three 
in our crowd who never fired a shot, myself, Matt, 
my brother, and George Dunn. We had known 
Blaine for a long time and he had done favors for us, 
so we could not harm him. We tried to persuade 
the boys to let him go but they seemed determined to 
get him. 

Some one suggested setting fire to the house, but 
no one seemed anxious to undertake the job. We had 
a Mexican with us whom we had picked up at King’s 
Ranch on our way down. His name was Luis Robelos. 
When Luis saw that no one was coming to volunteer 
to fire the house, he went to a nearby “jacal” and 
pulled a lot of straw out of the roof. He lighted the 
straw and mounting his horse, galloped to the build¬ 
ing and threw the blazing straw on top of a shed that 
joined the main building. It burned slowly for a few 
minutes and then the roof caught fire. 

Blaine, on observing this, burst a hole through the 
roof and began throwing water on the fire. We then 
told the boys that if they shot at him, we would quit 
and go home. We told them that Blaine would never 
buy any more hides and that all he wanted was to 
escape. They finally agreed with us, and we left him 
alone in his glory. 

We Make a Third Trip —Several days after the 
above incident, we had occasion to visit the place 
again. We found it vacated and the building looked 
as if it had been riddled by machine guns. A number 
of our boys were armed with .50 caliber carbines. 


THE TRIP TO THE SAND 


99 


They had a habit of splitting the lead ball down to 
the edge of the brass shell so that when the guns 
were fired off, they would let out a terrible wail and 
would tear a hole that a rat could run into. 

A Place of Desolation -—The empty store was in a 
mess. There were shoes with the heels torn off by 
bullets and hats with three or four bullets in them. 
An awful stench came from the canned goods where 
the cans had been perforated by bullets. 

There was one big building made of liveoak posts 
put down in the ground with the spaces between 
them daubed up with mud and moss. This building 
had port holes through which one could shoot on 
either side. We stopped at this place intending to 
remain there for the night, it now being late in the 
evening. Some of the boys had already unsaddled 
their horses, among them my brother Matt. There 
were large liveoak trees all around the house, and 
Matt was tying his horse to one of them when he 
heard stock running. 

An Exciting Moment —He looked up and saw two 
Mexicans with a bunch of horses. They were driving 
the animals to a pen about fifty yards away. Matt 
dodged behind a tree and waited until they had 
penned the horses and closed the gate. Just as they 
were ready to mount their horses, he threw down on 
them and told them to halt. Instead of doing this, 
they jumped into their saddles, struck a gallop and 
began firing as they ran. 

Three of our boys, (one of them being the Mexi- 


100 


PERILOUS TRAILS OF TEXAS 


can, Jesus Seguira, who had been with us at Nueces- 
town), followed them. One of the Mexican’s horses 
that had been wounded in the shooting pen, could not 
keep up with the others, so his owner made for a 
vacant camp in the liveoaks. There he jumped from 
his horse and ran under a wagon where he was cap¬ 
tured. The other Mexican got away into the thick 
oak shrubbery. 

We are Attacked —We found a beef dressed and 
hanging up in the camp and also two wagons loaded 
with corn and other things. We asked the prisoner 
whose camp it was and where its occupants were, but 
all he would do was to grin and say, “You will find 
out.” 

A few moments after he had been brought into 
camp, we heard a bugle sound in a southeasterly 
direction. It was answered from the opposite direc¬ 
tion. Now we knew what the vacant camp meant. 

One of the boys, named Singleton, climbed to the 
top of the highest “jacal” and called out to us saying, 
“They are coming from the four quarters of the 
earth, boys. Clouds of sand everywhere you look.” 

At the same time, there were cow horns and bugles 
sounding all around and in a few minutes they had 
the camp surrounded, forming a circle about a hun¬ 
dred yards from us. There must have been at least 
a hundred of them, while there were only ten of us. 

It was almost sunset. There was considerable excite¬ 
ment among us, as some of us wanted to stay and 
fight and others argued that if we did, the Mexicans 


THE TRIP TO THE SAND 


101 


would get behind the oaks and set fire to the straw- 
covered houses and shoot us as we came out. This 
we knew to be true. 

Seguira is Put in Command —The Mexican, Jesus 
Seguira, had at one time been a lieutenant in General 
Cortina’s forces and understood the Mexican tactics. 
So we finally instructed him to take charge and told 
him we would obey his orders. He then formed us 
in line, single file, putting the prisoner in the rear 
with a man behind him with orders to shoot him if 
the Mexicans fired on us. 

As we lined up, he told us to have our guns cocked 
with the butts resting on our hips and to ride just 
as slowly as our horses could walk, not letting a 
single horse stumble, as the Mexicans might think 
we were going to run. He then asked one of the 
boys to ride over to the head man and ask him the 
direction to a certain place. 

We picked out the man we thought to be the cap¬ 
tain, as he was riding the finest horse and giving 
orders. When our man got within fifty yards of him, 
he motioned him to fall back, which he did. Then we 
all moved on to where the captain was and when 
we got within fifty yards of him, he made a motion 
to his men and they opened a space for us to pass 
through. We could hardly believe that we were 
going to get away that easily. 

Seguira Saves the Day —Jesus rode along the line 
talking to us, fully believing they would yet turn on 
us. Still he would not allow us to change our pace 


102 


PERILOUS TRAILS OF TEXAS 


or let a single horse trot. “If we trot,” he said, “they 
will get suspicious, and think we are going to make a 
break.” 

The sun was only a few minutes high when we 
passed through their lines. After we were about a 
hundred yards away, they began to move in the direc¬ 
tion of the ranch. Jesus then sent out two men on 
each side of our column and one to stay some dis¬ 
tance behind us, to keep watch so that they would not 
be able to slip up on us. As soon as it began to get 
dark, he told us to strike a trot and later ordered us 
to gallop. We kept on galloping until we reached 
Bovido Creek to which Jesus thought the Mexicans 
might beat us and hide in the big gullies on each side 
of the road at the crossing. Our prisoner is still some¬ 
where in that creek, as he fell off his horse and Jesus 
shot him thinking he was an alligator. At this place 
we rested for a day or so and then went back again. 

We Return —We scouted all over the same ground 
and could not find a soul. Everyone of the ranches 
was deserted. Some pyromaniac must have been fol¬ 
lowing us, for everytime we passed through a ranch 
it mysteriously caught on fire. 

A Pitiful Sight —At one of the ranches we found 
an old Mexican woman who looked as if she might 
have passed the century mark. She was kneeling 
beside a mound of earth with a cross on it about four 
feet high and was muttering and praying without 
seeming in the least alarmed. The boys crowded 
around her and she told them that her son was buried 


THE TRIP TO THE SAND 


103 


there, having been murdered by some of the Mexi¬ 
cans on the ranch. She implored us to kill everyone 
of them that we could find, saying that they were all 
thieves and murderers. They had left the unfortu¬ 
nate creature without any water and she was nearly 
dead with thirst. We went into the jacals and col¬ 
lected all the food we could find and took the well 
bucket and filled it with water. Then we watched 
her “jacal” until the others had finished burning 
and moved on. 

We Arrive at Kings Ranch —The next morning 
we reached King’s ranch just as day was breaking. 
It had been blowing a hard south wind during the 
early part of the night and this had carried the smoke 
from the burning ranches all the way to Santa Ger- 
trudis. When we got close to the ranch, we saw 
someone walking back and forth in front of it and 
when we got closer we saw that it was Captain King. 
“What is the matter boys,” he greeted us, “has a 
volcano broken loose?” We then explained the situa¬ 
tion, telling him how all the houses had caught fire 
and burned up, except the buildings that had hides in 
them, and he said to us, “There are plenty of teams 
and wagons here, hitch them up, go and get the 
hides and sell them keeping the money.” We told 
him we did not care to fool with them. So he said, 
“Well, go back and burn them.” This we did. 

Jesus Gets Drunk —There being no more ranches 
in that section, we started homeward. As we came 
into an open space between two bunches of timber, 


104 


PERILOUS TRAILS OF TEXAS 


we saw a large body of horsemen coming out of the 
timber in front of us. We halted a moment and 
watched them. They formed a line on the prairie 
facing us. As we were just in the edge of the timber, 
we had the advantage of them. We noticed a man 
leaving the line and coming toward us with a white 
flag. He rode up and asked who was in command 
and our captain was pointed out to him. He then 
informed our captain that he had orders for us to 
disband, explaining that he had been sent there to 
take charge of that territory and introducing himself 
as Captain McNelly. Our captain told him that this 
was agreeable as we were on our way home now. 

We went into camp that night at the Bovido ranch, 
where McNelly’s company also camped. The night 
before we had camped near this same ranch and 
Jesus Seguira, finding some mescal, had gotten glori¬ 
ously drunk. He stayed on at the ranch after we had 
gone, and we did not know where he was. The next 
morning after breakfast we started out leaving the 
cook to hitch up and follow us. When we got into 
McNelly’s camp, we were surprised to find the cook 
shot in the ankle and Jesus a prisoner. 

It seems that the cook had let one of the wagon 
horses get away from him and was chasing him on 
the prairie. Jesus, meanwhile, had come into camp 
and found it deserted. He saw the cook on the prairie 
and gave chase to him, thinking he was trying to 
desert. He first fired a shot over the cook’s head in 
an attempt to halt him. With that the cook fired back 
at Jesus. Jesus alighted from his horse, and resting 











































































A Battle with Mexican Raiders at old Nueces Town, 


April 26, 1875 . 








THE TRIP TO THE SAND 


105 


his Winchester across his saddle fired at the cook, 
shooting him in the ankle and knocking him down. 

Jesus Escapes —When Jesus saw us coming back 
with McNelly’s men, he cried like a baby thinking 
we were prisoners like himself. McNelly tried to get 
us to join his company but we refused. He then 
asked Captain Clark to detail three men to take Jesus 
to Corpus Christi and turn him over to the sheriff. 
Captain Clark detailed George Dunn, my brother 
Matt, and myself. 

When we got within four miles of town Jesus 
wheeled his horse and ran away from us. He was rid¬ 
ing a fine gray stallion, and the night being dark, he 
was soon lost in the chaparral. We fired a farewell 
salute to him and went and reported to the sheriff. 

A Last Encounter —About four months after that, 
we were at San Patricio attending court and were 
camped a few hundred yards from Captain Hall’s 
company, which was once McNelly’s company, when 
who should walk out of their camp and into ours but 
Jesus Seguira. He told us that he was Captain Hall’s 
servant, and that there were two of the men in the 
company that had belonged to McNelly’s company 
and had helped to arrest him at the time he shot our 
cook, but that they had never recognized him. This 
Vas the last time I ever saw Jesus Seguira. No braver 
man ever lived. In the fight at Nuecestown he stayed 
right with us during the whole encounter, although 
he did not have so much as a pocket knife. 

There is no doubt, whatever, that if it had not been 


106 


PERILOUS TRAILS OF TEXAS 


for him, when we were surrounded by the Mexicans 
at Mesquite Ranch, that we would have been anni¬ 
hilated, as there were but ten of us and at least a 
hundred of them. 

Courageous Mexicans —It is a mistaken idea some¬ 
times prevalent to believe that all Mexicans are 
cowards. There were two Mexicans with us and they 
would go into places that few white men would dare 
to go. 

A Strange Kind of Gratitude —After we had 
chased the bandits across the Rio Grande and made 
the country safe for Americans, we had to undergo 
another system of persecution from the home people 
whom we had helped to defend. We were indicted 
for killing Mexicans who never existed. This made 
us desperate after a manner and caused us to get 
into other trouble. We were placed under the heavi¬ 
est bonds, amounting to $67,000. I had to attend 
court in three different counties. It is all over now, 
and I have won out and have no apologies to offer. 
I merely took St. Paul’s advice and while in Rome 
did as the Romans did. 


Note —The country referred to as “The Sand” was so named 
on account of the numerous sand dunes in that section. 

Note No. 2—Long since the said people have circulated the 
report that the raiders insulted the women at Nuecestown. It is 
a false report and the raiders must be given credit for treating 
the women courteously and not molesting them in any manner. 



CHAPTER XII 


A Hot Time in Old San Pat 

We Go to the Circus —After the Mexican raid, 
after we had made the country safe for Americans, 
and after we had been indicted for the disappear¬ 
ance of every Mexican who did not respond when 
his mama called him, and after it was proven that 
we could not get a fair and impartial trail in Corpus 
Christij we secured a change of venue to San Patri¬ 
cio County. At that time San Patricio was the county 
seat and was a thriving village consisting of about 
four stores, a Catholic church, a convent, two board¬ 
ing houses and plenty of whiskey. Mrs. Ryan ran 
the principal boarding house and we made our head¬ 
quarters there. Cherokee Brown ran the other board¬ 
ing house. “San Pat” at that time was a very lively 
place. 

Mrs. Ryan’s hotel was a large two-story frame 
building. The upstairs was one solid room without 
any ceiling and but one bedstead that stood in the 
middle of the room. The rest of the room was lined 
with cots. 

On the first day of our arrival, a circus came to 
the place. A. Mr. Hubert Timon was sheriff of the 
town at that time. Just at dark he came to us and 
107 


108 


PERILOUS TRAILS OF TEXAS 


said, “Buckle on your pistols boys, I am going to 
deputize all of you so you will be admitted to the 
circus free.” We thanked him and did as he said. 

When about half of us were inside, the manager 
yelled out, “Are all the men in this and adjoining 
counties deputies?” The sheriff told him to keep his 
shirt on, that the third of them were not there yet 
and to reserve seats for them. Then some one told 
the manager to go and butt his head against a tent 
pole, and he quited down. 

The Dance at McCloskey Hall —The next night 
there was a dance at McCloskey hall, an entertain¬ 
ment gotten up for the benefit of the church. Again 
the sheriff came to the door where we were watching 
the dancing and told us to put on our guns and go 
inside. We thanked him and told him we had a very 
good view from where we were. It was the first time 
that we had ever seen people dancing with pistols 
and knives on them and it was amusing in the ex¬ 
treme. There was quite a variety of pistols displayed. 
Those who were wealthy had beautiful pearl and 
ivory handled ones nicely inlaid with gold and sil¬ 
ver. Others were so rusty that it would have seemed 
like suicide to cock one of them. At times when a 
fellow would give his girl a hard swing, the handle 
of his pistol would sometimes strike the handle of 
the pistol belonging to the man dancing nearest 
him. If it got a good hard jolt, he would stop danc¬ 
ing and pull the weapon out and examine it, to see 
if it had been damaged, while the dancers stood 


A HOT TIME IN OLD SAN PAT 


109 


spell-bound awaiting the verdict. After cocking it a 
time or two and finding it was O. K. they would 
proceed with the dance. 

The only incident that tended to mar the harmony 
of the proceedings, was caused by a young man who 
had been appointed to collect the funds. About an 
hour before daylight he went to a gambling table and 
lost all he had collected. However, be it said to the 
credit of the gamblers who won it, that as soon as 
they found out that the money belonged to the 
church they returned every cent of it. Their names 
are worth mentioning. One was Mr. Stapleton and 
the other Mr. Van Doren. 

The McConel Incident —Among those who came 
to San Patricio to attend court, was an attorney named 
McConel. The Garner Brothers employed him to 
defend them in a case that they had pending. Mc¬ 
Conel was what might be called a scientific booze- 
fighter, and he proceeded at once to defend his title. 

About the first place that he went was to a saloon 
where he called for some “furius of Aqua Fortis” 
and told the bar man to sweeten it with brim-stone, 
skim it with a cyclone and stir it with a lightning-rod. 
After he had imbibed about four drinks, two Mexi¬ 
cans were employed to carry the attorney back to 
Mrs. Ryan’s boarding house. They brought him up¬ 
stairs and placed him in the one large bed that the 
room boasted. 

About twelve o’clock, one of the Garner brothers 
came and asked me to go upstairs with him as he 


110 


PERILOUS TRAILS OF TEXAS 


wanted to find oat if his lawyer was going to be in a 
fit condition to attend to his case should it be called 
for trial the following day. 

When we arrived upstairs, we found him sprawled 
out on the bed with all his clothes off except a very' 
short shirt, and the bed filled with cakes of soap, 
old shoes, etc., and some one had even thrown a 
pitcher of water on him. We tried to awaken him but 
with negligible results. 

I then proposed to Gamer that I go down in the 
lot and swipe ^Mrs. Ryan’s clothes line and that we 
tie it around one of his ankles and shove the other 
end of the rope over one of the rafters and then 
rak m g that same end, go about half way down the 
stairs and pull slowly on the rope until we had his 
leg straight and then tie it to one of the bannisters 
and go down and mix with the crowd until the expo¬ 
sition started. 

After carrying out our plan to the letter, we did 
not have long to wait. When he hit the floor, it 
sounded like a cotton bale had struck it, jarring the 
whole house. Then we heard fearful screams and 
pleas to “Take the alligator out of my bed, it is eat¬ 
ing my leg off!” There must have been about forty 
people in the house at the time, and they all made a 
rush for upstairs with their pistols in their hands, not 
knowing what had happened. Mrs. Ryan brought up 
the rear armed with a bed-slat, and when she got 
there one of the men threw a quilt over the victim 
and began coning the rope from his ankles. Mrs. 
Ryan made a few dips at him, but the boys warded 





A HOT TIME IN OLD SAN PAT 


111 


off the blows. He was advised not to go to town any 
more, since some people were watching for him and 
if they caught him, they were going to throw him 
in the river to drown. He was very quiet that night, 
and next morning he bade farewell to San Pat. 

Old Uncle Billy —Late next day an ambulance 
with two fine horses driven by a Mexican, drove up 
to the Ryan House. In the ambulance was a ranch¬ 
man who for convenience, I shall call “Uncle Billy.” 
He ordered his driver to drive into the horse lot 
and unhitch the horses while he went uptown to hunt 
some “tarantula juice.” When he returned he was 
“full to the neck.” 

He wanted Mrs. Ryan to let him sleep in the room 
downstairs where the judge and the attorneys were 
sleeping, but she positively refused to do so. It was 
then night and she told him to go upstairs and get 
himself a cot. When I saw him start, I hurried and 
got ahead of him and pushing my cot next to the 
wall, filled it with all kinds of plunder, broken wash 
stands, chairs, and anything I could find. When he 
arrived and found but the one vacant cot, he began 
taking the things out of it and throwing them against 
the floor which awoke those who were asleep in the 
other cots. They immediately opened a barrage of 
soap from the wash-stands followed by chairs, boots 
and anything they could lay their hands on. 

When the people below heard the noise, they made 
a rush upstairs, Mrs. Ryan with her bed-slat bring¬ 
ing up the rear. When tfcev arrived there Uncle 


112 


PERILOUS TRAILS OF TEXAS 


Billy was standing in the middle of the floor, with 
the cot spread out using it as a shield to ward off 
the missies the boarders were firing at him. Mrs. 
Ryan made a clip at him with the bed-slat and missed 
him. If she had hit him, he would doubtless have 
been minus an ear. 

“What the divil is the matther with ye?” she asked 
him. He replied, “Do you think I could sleep on an 
alligator like that?” pointing to the cot. Some of the 
boys wanted to tie him up until daylight, but he 
promised them that if they would forbear he would 
go and sleep somewhere else. They let him go and he 
accordingly went uptown, only to crawl upstairs 
again about an hour afterwards. 

He went over in the corner right over the bed 
where the judge and the district attorney were asleep 
and lay there groaning and cursing everyone. Ever 
so often he would kick the floor with his heels. 
After awhile, he got up and went out on the porch 
facing the lot where his driver and horses were, and 
called out, “Hosa, Hosa! Bring up a bucket of water. 
My abdomen is on fire.” When the Mexican came 
with the water he lay down on his back and pulling 
up his shirt, made the man pour the water slowly 
on his stomach. 

In a few moments, all was confusion. As the floor 
was not tongued or grooved, the water poured down 
Into the beds below and there was weeping and wail¬ 
ing and gnashing of teeth. Some caught hold of him 
and were preparing to tie him up for the balance of 
the night, but he pleaded so pitifully that they re- 


A HOT TIME IN OLD SAN PAT 


113 


lented. It seemed to satisfy him that he had routed 
the judge and the district attorney out of their roost, 
and he did no more antics. 

Next morning when he was getting ready to leave 
he called out, “Come on, boys, and kiss papa bye- 
bye. We had a lot of fun but wait till next time. 
We will give the men folks one hour to move the 
women and children out of town and then we will 
set fire to it.” With this he entered his carriage and 
started for his ranch and we cheered him as long as 
he was in sight. Good-bye, Uncle Billy! 

Another Knight of Fire and Brimstone —Attorney 
McManigle was another scientific booze-fighter, who 
came to San Pat to attend court. On the second night 
after his arrival, he went up in the north of town 
to visit a friend. It was a common thing when the 
mosquitos were bad for the cattle to bed on the 
public road which was also the main street. 

It was early in the evening when McManigle 
started out, and there were but few cattle on the 
street at the time. Mac and his friend finished a quart 
that his friend had in the house and about twelve 
o’clock Mac started home. By that time the road was 
covered with cattle. Mac got no more than ten feet 
from the house when he stumbled over a cow which 
arose and tossed him on another cow, who in turn 
tossed him on another, etc. until finally he reached 
home. During the intervals that he was not on a cow’s 
back he was in a pile of manure. 

He stated that at one time he thought the road, 


114 


PERILOUS TRAILS OF TEXAS 


street and cattle were going around in a circle. Then 
for a moment it looked as if the revolutions had 
stopped. He thought he detected a small vacant spot 
and made a jump for it, landing in a bunch of calves, 
who kicked him and cut him with their sharp hoofs, 
finally landing him in more manure. 

He was the most comical sight that we had ever 
seen when he finally arrived. His hair, his whiskers, 
and his clothes were matted with manure, and after 
we got through laughing at him, he wound up by 
putting a curse on San Pat. He said that he hoped 
it would be set afloat in an open boat and that the 
boat would be swallowed by a shark who would be 
swallowed by a whale, and the whale would be 
landed in the Northeast corner of Hades, the door of 
which would then be locked and the key lost. He 
then wound up by saying, “I now christen that street 
‘cow chip lane.’ ” The next morning he pulled his 
freight for Corpus Christi. 

The Derringer Incident —Mrs. Ryan’s dining table 
would seat at least thirty-five people. The food was 
put in dishes and passed up and down the table as 
people called for it. About the only fruit that we 
indulged in in those days was dried apples, that 
looked as if they had been smoked instead of merely 
dried. 

This particular day two small butter dishes of this 
delicacy were placed, one at each end of the table. 
Each dish contained about one tea-cupful of the 
fruit. 


A HOT TIME IN OLD SAN PAT 


115 


A rube who was sitting near the lower end of the 
table, asked the man next to him what was in the 
dish. “Fruit,” answered the person questioned. The 
rube then grabbed the dish and emptied the con¬ 
tents in his plate and began working on them. Then 
he happened to spy the other dish at the far end of 
the table and cried out, “Pass the fruit.” With that 
one of the boarders at the upper end of the table 
started it toward him. When it came to where Pat 
Dunn was sitting, he took the dish of fruit and set¬ 
ting it down, picked up an empty dish. At the same 
time he slipped his hand in the coat-pocket of the 
man next to him and extracted a large derringer that 
he knew the man was carrying. Placing it in the 
empty dish, he started it down to the rube, who was 
so busy sopping out with a piece of bread the last 
drop of apple juice, that he never noticed what had 
been going on until the man with the dish said, “Here 
is your fruit.” The rube flew into a tantrum and got 
up and left, going to Cherokee Brown’s. Thus Mrs. 
Ryan lost a boarder and thereafter he would not 
notice any of us when he met us on the street. 

A San Pat Cocktail —Among the merchants in San 
Pat was a man whom we shall call the Proprietor. 
He owned a small grocery store and as an induce¬ 
ment to his customers, kept a line of cocktails, gin 
and whiskey. While in his store one day one of the 
boys asked for a cocktail. He turned to his son, a 
small boy, and said to him, “Son, go out in the yard 
and pull out that old red rooster’s tail and bring it to 
me.” He then turned to the one who ordered the 


116 


PERILOUS TRAILS OF TEXAS 


cocktail and said to him, “I’ll wait on you young 
man, when the boy comes back.” But when the boy 
returned, he said to his father, “I can’t catch him, 
pa.” “That’s all right, son,” said the old man, “let 
him go.” 

We could see by the way that he looked at us that 
he thought we were poking fun at him but he was 
not quite sure. So to make matters more pleasant, one 
of the boys ordered a bottle of cocktail and invited 
him to drink with us. This he did and we parted 
good friends. 

The next day the news was all over town and 
was causing a lot of mirth. In the evening one of the 
residents came to us and proposed that about twenty- 
five of us should go to the store in a body and let 
four or five of the strongest men place themselves 
near the proprietor, so that if he made a break 
when we ordered our cocktails, we could catch him 
and hold him until he quieted down. 

This plan we carried out, and on arrival, one of 
the boys cried out, “Give me a cocktail.” Then the 
whole crowd chorused, “I will take the same.” The 
Proprietor stood looking at us foolishly for a mom¬ 
ent and then said, “Boys, I appreciate your order but 
unfortunately I have but one rooster on the place and 
have not tails enough to go around. However, I am 
expecting a coop of chickens this evening and if there 
are enough roosters to go around, you shall have 
cocktails tonight.” We then emptied about four bot¬ 
tles of bitters and cocktails in which the man joined 
us and parted good friends. As we were leaving, he 


A HOT TIME IN OLD SAN PAT 


117 


said to us, “When you come to San Pat again, you 
shall have your cocktails, if I have to buy every roos¬ 
ter in San Pat County.” 


CHAPTER XIII 


Miscellaneous Adventures 

The Swift Murder —In the year 1875 a family by 
the name of Swift lived near the old Refugio Mis¬ 
sion in Refugio County. On June 8th of that year, 
Mr. Swift’s neighbors were horrified to learn that 
Swift and his wife had been murdered and robbed 
the night before. An eye-witness who viewed the 
bodies and stated the facts said that outside the house 
were the bodies of Swift and his wife cut to pieces. It 
was all too revolting to describe. 

Swift was a sheep man who had been to St. Mary’s 
the day before to dispose of his wool, and brought 
back considerable money with him. It was found that 
the house had been ransacked and the money taken. 

In a short time several posses were organized to 
hunt the murderers down. Some of them were trailed 
to Goliad County and were cornered in a building 
where they showed fight and killed one of the 
posse. However, the posse eventually overpowered 
them and started to jail with them. However, they 
were met by another posse who took them away from 
their captors and made quick work of them. 

Among the leaders of the posse was a well-known 
man by the name of Henry Scott, a born leader. He 
118 


MISCELLANEOUS ADVENTURES 


119 


had fought both Indians and Mexicans in his youth 
and was with his father in an Indian fight near the 
present town of Brownsville in which his father was 
killed and young Scott was captured by the Indians, 
and taken to Mexico from whence he finally escaped 
back to Texas. 

Juan Flores, one of the instigators of the Swift 
murder escaped to Mexico, where it was learned that 
he was boasting of the way he dealt with “grin- 
goes.” Henry Scott sent a man named Bogus to nego¬ 
tiate with Cortina, who was Mayor of Matamoras, 
for the delivery of Flores. 

After the arrival of Bogus from the Rio Grande, 
Scott with a posse of men struck camp on the east 
bank of the Rio Grande. About midnight a skiflF 
came to our side. 

When it landed two men with a prisoner between 
them stepped ashore. The prisoner was Juan Flores. 
One of the posse then counted out five hundred dol¬ 
lars in gold. 

Flores was taken back to the scene of his crime and 
legally hung. 

I Am Raided —Shortly after the Swift murder 
the Mexicans made a raid on me shooting me twice 
through a window. 

I had been staying at my uncle’s at night and one 
morning while crossing an open space on my way 
home I heard horses running. I looked up and saw 
about eight men running toward me. 

As I was on foot, I realized that it was useless to 


120 


PERILOUS TRAILS OF TEXAS 


run, so I stood unwrapping my pistol which was 
wrapped in my coat under my arm. 

When they came nearer, I saw both Mexicans and 
Americans in the bunch. They were Henry Scott and 
posse. They asked me if I knew certain Mexicans, 
giving me their names, and I told them that I did 
and that they lived in town on the “hill.” 

I then caught a horse and accompanying them to 
town pointed the men out to them. They captured 
them, tied their arms and legs and took them away. 

I never saw them again nor tried to find them. 
The men in the posse whose names I remember were, 
Henry Scott, Duff Hale, and two of the Castia 
brothers. The others I have forgotten. 

Two of Henry Scott’s daughters are still living in 
Corpus Christi and are well respected people. 

Mr. Roach Trusts the Wrong Man —A man 
named Roach once lived in that part of Corpus 
Christi that used to be called “The Hill” in the old 
days. It is still known by that name sometimes, but 
then it was inhabited entirely by Mexicans. 

Mr. Roach built a store there, a two-story build¬ 
ing, and lived in the upper story. His business con¬ 
sisted of buying and selling produce and hides. 

He had just bought some hides from a ranchero 
by the name of Black, when some stockmen came 
armed with a search warrant and searched the hides. 
I was never able to learn what they discovered. 
When they went away after telling him nothing, 
Roach got uneasy and went to a policeman by the 


MISCELLANEOUS ADVENTURES 


121 


name of Basquez and told him about it. He asked 
him to let him know anything he might hear and to 
bring him a horse, promising to pay him well for his 
services. 

As soon as it got dark, Roach went upstairs and 
began changing his clothes. Suddenly his wife called 
him to get out quick as a crowd of men were coming 
with the Mexican Basquez at their head. Roach 
looked through the window and saw that they were 
so close that he could not hope to escape by going 
down the stairs, so he jumped out of his upper story 
window which was on the side opposite the intruders. 

He ran west until he struck the chaparral on the 
Nueces Bay and kept on until he came to our ranch 
about four miles from town. We were still up and 
had a lamp burning when he knocked on our door, 
saying, “Boys, please open the door, for God’s 
sake.” 

Four of us stood with cocked sharpshooters while 
one opened the door, standing behind it. Then we 
beheld one of the wildest looking men we had ever 
seen. He was in his undershirt and drawers and they 
were torn to shreds. He was covered with blood and 
blood was running from his ears and nostrils. He 
was almost deaf as a result of running so fast 
through the chaparral, whose thorns had torn him 
pitifully. We thought he would choke before we 
could get any water down him, but at last he re¬ 
vived and told us his story. 

Mr. Roach's Story —He explained that he had 
bought the hides from Black, knowing the latter to 


122 


PERILOUS TRAILS OF TEXAS 


be a stock man, and not thinking that he had done 
any harm. He insisted on going out to Black’s ranch 
that night, reasoning that since Black had gotten him 
into the trouble, he ought to be willing to help him 
out of it. We told him that it was a ten to one gamble 
that a posse would be waiting for him at the ranch, 
expecting him to take just such a course, and that the 
best thing he could do would be to go into the brush 
for four or five days, until they got tired of the hunt 
and gave it up. He agreed to this, after we had ex¬ 
plained the situation to him. 

Roach In Hiding —Just before daylight, we took 
him out into the thick chaparral and after providing 
for his wants, went away and left him there. We 
then put our spies to work to see what the other side 
was doing. We soon found out everything that was 
going on, discovering that they had men watching at 
the reef and at the river crossings trying to appre¬ 
hend him. 

The next day we visited Roach and he wrote a 
letter to his wife which was delivered to her by one 
of our boys. He advised her as to the disposition of 
his property, etc. Every day after that as long as he 
remained in the brush, we carried letters between 
him and his wife. At the end of five days, he told us 
he was ready to move whenever we said the word. 

The Escape —We told him that we had had re¬ 
ports from our men and that they had stated that 
there had been no guards at the crossings for two 


MISCELLANEOUS ADVENTURES 


123 


days and nights. We agreed to start him out the next 
night, which we did. 

That night we posted relays of scouts all the way 
to Herring’s Ferry on the Nueces with instructions 
to ride back and forth from the ferry to a certain 
point a few miles this side of the ferry, where I was 
to meet them with Roach. We were to take a round¬ 
about way through the brush to the meeting point, 
where we would constantly meet some of the boys 
coming from the ferry in order to question them and 
make sure of Roach’s safety. 

When we arrived, we found everything clear. We 
awoke the ferryman and when we had gotten about 
half way across the river, we held the ferry up and 
told him that we were under the painful necessity 
of administering an oath. He gladly complied with 
our demand and Roach administered an oath to him 
under which he agreed never to divulge anything 
pertaining to the matter. If he ever broke this oath, 
we never heard anything about it. After we got a 
mile or two on the other side of the river, we bade 
Roach farewell and never saw him again. 

A Thoughtful Woman —I shall never forget a 
strange thing that Roach said the night he came to 
our ranch. About the first words he uttered when 
he began to revive were, “thoughtful woman.” We 
asked him what he meant and he said, “When I 
jumped out of the window, my wife said to me, ‘get 
to the Dunn boys as quickly as possible.’ Had it not 
been for that, I wouldn’t have known where to go.” 


124 


PERILOUS TRAILS OF TEXAS 


News of Roach —About a year after Roach left, a 
butcher from Corpus Christi went to Germany for an 
operation. His name was August Rickelson and he 
was well known here. When he returned, we went 
to see him. For some reason, he had a peculiar grin 
on his face. At last I asked him what the occasion was 
for the mirth. He answered, “Where is Roach?” I 
was dumbfounded and asked him what he meant by 
that. 

He stated that while on his way to Germany, he 
stopped at a German boarding house in St. Louis, and 
that while he was sitting at the table, who should 
come in and sit right down in front of him but 
Roach. Having heard of Roach’s trouble, he pre¬ 
tended not to recognize him, but noticed that Roach 
kept his eye on him all the time. Rickelson waited 
until Roach finished his meal and went outside and 
then when he, Rickelson, had finished his own meal, 
a waiter stopped and asked him if he knew the man 
who had just gone out. He told the waiter, “no” 
and the waiter explained that he had asked him be¬ 
cause he had seen Roach looking at him and also saw 
him putting a pistol in his pocket. 

Rickelson went outside and met Roach in the hall. 
Roach said to him, “How are you going to act in 
this matter, August?” Rickelson answered that since 
it was none of his business and since Roach had not 
violated any law, he intended to say nothing. He told 
Roach that he understood that he was simply trying 
to escape from a mob. 

Roach then invited Rickelson to his room, where 


MISCELLANEOUS ADVENTURES 


125 


he told him the whole story, explaining that he was 
living in a Western city and was doing well. He 
asked his guest to give the Dunn boys his undying 
gratitude. 

A Cowardly Murder —Strange to say, the very 
night that we put Roach safely across the river, 
Black and his sons were both murdered by a Mex¬ 
ican. They were sitting on their porch talking when 
some Mexicans came up the steps and shot them as 
they sat in their chairs. Some claimed that it was 
stockmen who had the murder committed, but that 
is hard to say, as the stockmen have been accused of 
many things of which they were not guilty. 

The Stabbing of Tom Gallagher —Tom Gallagher 
lived on the Oso Creek and owned considerable land 
there. The Mexicans were continually stealing wood 
from his land, although Gallagher had warned them 
not to do so. One day he discovered a Mexican on 
his property with his cart already loaded with wood 
and ready to start for town. Tom told him to wait 
and he would go with him. 

Tom then got down off his horse and tied the 
horse behind the cart, leaving his sharpshooter in 
his scabbard on the saddle. He began to climb on top 
of the wood with the Mexican. While Tom was 
climbing up, the Mexican pulled a knife out of his 
bosom, and as Tom was about to sit down, the Mexi¬ 
can threw one arm over him, pushing him back¬ 
wards and began stabbing him in the breast. He kept 
this up until he had stabbed him eleven times and 


126 


PERILOUS TRAILS OF TEXAS 


then threw him off the wagon and ran to Tom’s 
horse and pulled out the sharpshooter. 

He began snapping the gun at Tom’s head, when 
a number of cow-hunters happened along. The 
Mexican, on seeing them, dropped the gun and ran 
into the brush. The cow-hunters then took Galla¬ 
gher home, where he recovered. The fact that he 
had on a heavy coat, making it difficult for the knife 
to penetrate deeply saved his life. 

We Hunt the Criminal —We heard nothing about 
the matter until night, but as soon as the news 
reached us we started out after the Mexican. We 
failed to find any trace of him that night, but the 
next day we put our spies to work in town on the 
“hill” and located him in a Mexican’s house. The 
next night we invaded the “hill” and surrounded the 
house. 

The house in question was a strong frame build¬ 
ing with wooden shutters. There was a tall brush 
fence around it. We were so sure we were going to 
get our man that we had brought an extra horse and 
saddle for him to ride home to luncheon with us. 
We tied the horses to fence posts and went inside 
the enclosure, stationing men near the doors and 
windows. 

Some of our men went to the front door and 
called the Mexican, informing him that he was un¬ 
der arrest. He said, “all right.” We noticed the door 
opening slowly and in a second a hand appeared with 
a nickel plated pistol in it. We leaned flat against 


MISCELLANEOUS ADVENTURES 


127 


the wall. Just then some one shot the pistol out of 
his hand. The screaming of women and children and 
the yelling of men was something terrible. 

The boys at the other windows and doors now 
commenced firing inside. The Mexicans answered 
our fire, and there was so much smoke and confusion 
that we could see nothing. Firing also began from 
the other houses. We could hear the police coming, 
blowing their whistles, so we adjourned the meet¬ 
ing. When we got outside, we noticed that the horse 
that we had brought for our intended prisoner had 
broken loose and had gone, saddle and all. We then 
went home. 

The Casualties —The next morning when we got 
out of bed, we noticed the horse grazing in front of 
the house with the saddle on. Later in the day, we 
sent a courier to town to learn the casualties, which 
were as follows: One Mexican shot through the 
hand, another shot through the wrist, another shot 
through the shoulder, two women with flesh wounds, 
and the house perforated with bullets. The man who 
had stabbed Gallagher was not touched at all, and 
made a clean get-away for the time being. 

The Burning of Old Man Murdoc on the “ Oso” 

* —Mr. Murdoc lived on the “Oso” about ten miles 
from town and nearly two miles from the Oso set¬ 
tlement. He lived alone in a large frame house on 
the Brownsville road and sold water from a well on 
the road to travellers. This was his only source of 


income. 


128 


PERILOUS TRAILS OF TEXAS 


One morning some of the people at the Oso set¬ 
tlement noticed a heavy smoke around his place. 
They paid little attention to it at first, as prairie fires 
were very common. A little later, looking that way 
after the smoke had shifted somewhat, they saw that 
Murdoch house was missing. 

They went to his place and found the house noth¬ 
ing but a heap of ashes. In searching through the 
ashes, they found the iron of his bedstead, a long 
chain, the iron teeth of a harrow with some of the 
teeth still in the links of the chain, and under this, 
they found the old man’s heart which did not burn, 
as it was full of blood. The rest of the body, they 
did not find, as it had been burned to ashes. 

When we captured the Pensecal murderers some 
time afterwards, they gave us the names of the mem¬ 
bers of the band that had committed this outrage 
and also the details of the torture of the poor old 
man, which were as follows: 

A Grewsome Story —This band learned that Mur- 
doc was a miser and had money hidden in the house. 
So they went to him and demanded it. He told them 
that he had but eight dollars and got it and gave it 
to them. They told him that he was lying and theat- 
ened to burn him if he did not produce more money. 
He told them that he had no more. They then 
dragged in an old harrow and laid it on the bed, 
teeth up, and stretched him on top of the teeth. 
They fastened him with some rope and a chain. 

Then began a horrible torture. First they burned 


MISCELLANEOUS ADVENTURES 


129 


the bottoms of his feet but could not get anything 
out of him. Then they set fire to the bed and went 
outside and fired the house in several places and left 
for Mexico. 

There they remained a short while and then re¬ 
turned. As a rule such fugitives always tried to get 
back in time to sell their votes in the elections, know¬ 
ing they would be safe as long as they stayed on the 
“hill.” Nevertheless, the Avenging Angel often 
swooped down on them and spirited them away, and 
the next election found them among the missing. 

We Observe Suspicious Actions —One day we no¬ 
ticed several groups of Mexicans who acted sus¬ 
piciously. So that night we held our herd several 
miles from the road. We had with us a negro boy 
whom we called “Black Pat.” The night before, he 
had set fire to several rats’ nests, causing the rats to 
run out and climb bushes, where he would shoot 
them with an old Southern Derringer that he carried. 

This night we forbade him to set fire to the rats’ 
nests. It was now dark and we had finished our sup¬ 
per and were sitting around our camp fire, when we 
noticed a blaze a few hundred yards from camp. 
With that we all arose and began securing our guns, 
when Pat came shuffling into camp laughing. 

Pat Fires an Eagle's Nest —We asked him the 
cause of the fire, and he explained that he had fired 
the nest of a Mexican eagle. It was a large nest 
made out of wood and limbs of trees and was in the 
top of a tall mesquite tree. The blaze lit the country 


130 


PERILOUS TRAILS OF TEXAS 


for miles around. Pat’s excuse was that although we 
had told him not to set fire to rats’ nests we had said 
nothing of eagles’ nests. 

The Intruder —Our fire was in the bed of a dry 
creek and we were all stretched out on our blankets 
when we heard something coming into camp. We 
sat up with our hands on our sharpshooters, wait¬ 
ing. When the thing came into the light of the fire, 
we saw that it was a negro. He looked to be about 
six feet tall and kept coming straight towards us. I 
called out, “Who is that?” and the intruder sniggered 
and replied, “I is a man, I is.” I then asked, “What 
do you want?” 

With that there was a noise just behind him that 
we mistook for another person, and at that moment 
the negro wheeled and ran, tumbling into a large 
chaparral bush, where the whole crowd fired at him. 
We were sure that we had got him, until next morn¬ 
ing at daylight when we searched the bushes and 
found nothing, not even blood. But he had surely 
torn up the bushes in making his escape. 

We Find Our Nocturnal Visitor —We now started 
out to see if we could locate him. About two miles 
further, we found a drove of sheep with a negro 
herding them. As soon as I spotted him, I recog¬ 
nized our unwelcome guest of the night before, and 
riding up to him, I asked him what he had wanted 
in our camp last night. He replied, “I wasn’t in you 
all’s camp.” I then told him that he was a liar and 
that if he told any more lies, we would swing him up. 


MISCELLANEOUS ADVENTURES 


131 


He then asked us if “we wuz the gemmums camped 
down to the crick,” and we told him we were. He 
then said, “I seen the light of you all’s fire and went 
down to your camp to get a piece of meat and when 
you all began fumblin’ with them carbines I jest 
couldn’t talk.” I replied, “But you certainly did run 
a pretty good lick,” and he said, “Oh no suh, I just 
run out to that ar mott and sot down till day-break.” 
The mott he referred to was Mott Redonda and was 
about four miles from where the shooting took place. 

Black Pat was very particular about fires after 
that. For a long time after the incident occurred he 
would say, if the night was very dark, “Does you 
all think another nigger will come into camp to¬ 
night?” Afterwards we learned that the big negro 
was an idiot who herded sheep for a man named 
Black. 

A Peculiar Sound —One night while we were 
hunting the Mexican who stabbed Tom Gallagher, 
myself and George Dunn happened to be riding in 
the rear of the column. We were on our way to town 
and on the Brownsville road. Suddenly George said 
to me, “Listen, what is that?” I stopped and listened 
a moment and caught the sound of a faint bell. It 
sounded just like the small bell used by the priests 
in the church service, and was so different from any 
bell we had ever heard on the prairie that we decided 
to investigate. 

The chaparral was so dense in the direction of the 
sound, that we could not penetrate it on horseback, 


132 


PERILOUS TRAILS OF TEXAS 


so we tied our horses and walked and crawled until 
we came upon a bunch of burros hobbled in the chap¬ 
arral. We then squatted down and rested a few mo¬ 
ments. All at once George grabbed my arm and 
whispered, “look there.” 

We Find Smugglers —I looked in the direction he 
pointed and saw what looked like a coal of fire, 
which seemed to be not more than 25 or 30 feet 
from where we were sitting. However, just before 
we arrived there we found this distance to be over 
100 yards. When we got within twenty feet of the 
light, it blazed up for a moment and we could see 
the outlines of two men lying on separate blankets 
about ten feet apart. They were sound asleep. Just 
on one side of them was a large pile of objects that 
we mistook for green hides. The idea came to us 
at once that they had been killing cattle for their 
hides, which at that time, was a common practice. 

I whispered to George and told him to crawl to 
the one on the left, and to jump astraddle of him 
with his pistol in his hand, while I attended to the 
other one. When George straddled his man the lat¬ 
ter bucked so hard that George had to clip him on 
the head to quiet him down. My man was better dis¬ 
posed of and began to beg for mercy. 

We asked if they had hides in the bundles and 
they said “yes.” Thereupon we examined the bundles 
and found that they contained “mescal” in goat hides 
and crates of fine Mexican hats. Our prisoners then 
confessed that they were smugglers and gave us all 


MISCELLANEOUS ADVENTURES 


133 


the mescal that we could drink. When we started, 
they asked us if we were not going to take anything. 
We told them no. 

Falsely Accused —Thereupon, one of them opened 
a crate of hats, and taking the hat off of my head, 
put one of the fine Mexican hats on it, and thanked 
us for our forbearance. The next morning I hap¬ 
pened to be in town wearing the hat, when a police¬ 
man came to me and told me that I had better get 
out of town. I asked him why. He told me that two 
Mexicans had sworn out a warrant for me and an¬ 
other man (meaning George), saying that we had 
robbed their camp and had taken a fine Mexican hat 
from them, and that they had my hat to prove 
it by. 

Vindicated —I then went home and got several of 
the boys to ride out to their camp and pretend that 
they were hunting two men who had stolen horses 
from them, describing George and I as the thieves. 
The Mexicans swallowed this story hook, line and 
sinker, and told them that the men they were hunt¬ 
ing were in their camp the previous night and had 
drunk their mescal and taken a fine hat from them. 
The boys asked them if they would help to hang 
the two men if they caught them and they said that 
nothing would give them more pleasure. 

The boys reported that the camp was empty, 
nothing there but their saddles, as the plunder had 
already been delivered. 


134 


PERILOUS TRAILS OF TEXAS 


The next night, the boys took us to the camp to 
be identified, but as soon as the Mexicans looked at 
us, they said that we had never taken a single thing 
and that they had to force the hat on me. How¬ 
ever, I put a rope around the Mexican’s neck and 
quirted him till my arm ached. George and I could 
have reported them and would have been entitled 
to half the proceeds, which would have amounted to 
about two hundred dollars, but we would not give 
them away. We were sorry afterwards that we did 
not report them and had but little respect for smug¬ 
glers thenceforward. 

I Bargain for Cattle —In the years 1874 and 1875 
there lived an old Mexican rancher on the Banquette 
Creek, 25 miles from Corpus Christi. The old man, 
Nicolas Garcia by name, had two sons who were 
regular devils. They had been implicated in the mur¬ 
der of several Americans and were hiding out for it. 

The old man had a nice little herd of cattle which 
I heard he was offering at a sacrifice, as he intended 
leaving also. As I was in the stock business, I went 
one morning and talked to him about buying his 
stock. His brand was the shape of a gourd. 

Nicolas stated that his wife had an interest in the 
stock and that she used the same brand, but that her 
ear-mark was different from his. I closed the trade 
with him and told him to be at H. L. Dryer’s stall 
in the city market at 4 o’clock, as I had my money 
in Dryer’s safe. 


MISCELLANEOUS ADVENTURES 


135 


I arrived at the market about ten minutes to 4 
and Garcia arrived a few minutes later. We sat 
down on one of the benches in the stall and were 
talking about the stock. I had forgotten the differ¬ 
ence in the ear-marks, so I got off the bench and 
squatted down on the floor to draw a diagram of 
the marks and told him to show me the difference. 

He slid off the bench and snapped a pistol at my 
breast, saying, “here it is.” The pistol failed to fire 
as it had doubtless been loaded a long time and had 
gotten damp. I grabbed him by the collar and stuck 
my pistol to his breast and let it go. 

Exciting Moments —It was like holding a cat by 
the tail. He would jump between my legs and up 
into the air like a trained rooster. I had fired three 
shots at him and the thought struck me that I would 
soon be covered with blood if I did not get rid of 
him. So I flung him away from me and started to 
go out through the front of the market. 

I had gotten about half way when some one 
grabbed me by the collar and I felt something cold 
at the back of my neck. When I turned around, I 
was surprised to find old Nicolas still frolicking with 
me. I grabbed the pistol and jerked it out of his 
hand, and then I discovered why he had not been 
killed by my first shot. The pistol was in his bosom 
and I had struck it and torn it up pretty badly. The 
main spring was shot from under the hammer, the 
wooden handle was entirely off and part of the ham¬ 
mer was gone. I also discovered that this was a dif- 


136 


PERILOUS TRAILS OF TEXAS 


terent pistol from the first one he had snapped 
at me. 

I threw the pistol over a stall and turned to walk 
out after again throwing Garcia away from me, but 
I opened fire on him again as he ran through the 
market. When he got outside, he ran down the side¬ 
walk to where the State National Bank is now. 
Kneeling on the sidewalk, I took deliberate aim at 
him, trying to plug him between the shoulders. But 
he seemed to bear a charmed life. 

Just as he got under the porch of the building on 
the corner, the police grabbed him and took him to 
jail. 

I was indicted for the matter, however, and Gar¬ 
cia was not indicted at all. But the jury acquitted me 
without leaving the box. 

Old man Garcia left here and went to Falfurrias, 
where he died a few years ago. 

Miguel Carries a Gun for Me —In the old days 
it was customary when we went on a cow-hunt for 
each one to “chip in” and pay for his share of the 
provisions. Each one also helped to pay the cook as 
well as to pay an extra share for each hand he 
brought along. 

On the particular occasion I am going to describe, 
one of the boys had a Mexican named Miguel work¬ 
ing for him. Miguel brought with him a musket 
which he carried in front of him on the saddle every 
day. 


MISCELLANEOUS ADVENTURES 


137 


We could not understand why he did this, so I 
sent a negro boy to question him and find out what 
I could. He told the negro that he had heard that I 
was a bad man and that he was watching me. 

We had rounded up some wild cattle that day 
and among them were some fighting bulls. I had 
shot every cartridge that I had at them and so had 
most of the boys. However, one of us had an old 
Southern Derringer, which shot a cartridge about 
half the length of my own pistol. I borrowed three 
cartridges from the owner of the Derringer. I was 
not sure whether they would shoot or not, but I made 
up my mind that Miguel would be minus a musket in 
the morning. 

I observed that at night, he always laid the musket 
lengthwise on the bed where he slept. This night it 
was pretty cool, so he spread his blanket near the 
wagon tongue and went asleep. 

After making sure that he was asleep, myself and 
a fellow named Jerry spread our blankets on the 
other side of the tongue from him. Then we took a 
long branding hook and hooked it into the guard of 
the musket, pulling it slowly into the fire, at the 
same time moving the barrel so that it would not 
strike any one when it went off. We moved the butt 
of the musket in first, up to where the barrel was fas¬ 
tened to the stock. Then we moved our blankets to 
another place and waited for the fireworks. 

A Miniature Earthquake —We did not have long 
to wait for the noise the gun made when it exploded 


138 


PERILOUS TRAILS OF TEXAS 


sounded as if it were loaded with TNT. It blew the 
fire in all directions and went straight up in the air 
where the barrel parted company with the stock and 
whirling over and over several times, stuck straight 
up in the ground. 

In a few seconds everyone was out of bed with 
their guns cocked asking what had happened. If 
Miguel suspected anything, he said nothing. 

A “Nigger* y Killer from Austin —The next morn¬ 
ing we took our cattle to town and disposed of them, 
after which Pat Dunn and I started for our ranches 
four miles from town. Just about two hundred yards 
from where the road to Laredo branches off, a young 
man overtook us. He introduced himself as a “bad 
nigger killer from Austin,” stating that he had made 
a specialty of shooting negroes on foot logs on the 
Colorado River for the past five years. 

Trouble with the Negro Leonard —While we were 
talking, some wagons loaded with wood came driv¬ 
ing by. Some one on them said something to Pat 
which I did not hear. Pat however, turned on the 
Mexican driver and gave him a beating with his quirt. 
Pat then rode on ahead of me and the “bad man.” 
Just as we got to the top of what is called Tom 
Whalen’s Hill, the man said, “Look, that ‘nigger’ is 
going to kill that boy.” 

I saw three wagons loaded with lumber and goods 
and driven by negroes. Pat was riding alongside one 
of the wagons, whipping a negro who was pulling at 
a musket that was fastened under some quilts and 


MISCELLANEOUS ADVENTURES 


139 


plunder. When I came up I said, “Here, don’t shoot 
that boy!” He replied, “I will shoot you, you— 
(calling me a foul name). I said, “Don’t try to joke 
with me,” and shot my pistol in his face but some¬ 
how missed him. By that time he had given the mus¬ 
ket a hard jerk and got it loose. 

My horse being very spirited, was cutting up so 
that it was impossible to take aim. When the negro 
got the gun loose, he jumped off the wagon inside a 
pasture and raised the gun to shoot me. Just then the 
wagon wheel struck my horse and made it rear 
straight up. This gave me a chance to draw a good 
bead on the negro and hit him over the left eye. I 
saw the ball kick up dirt on the other side of him, and 
knew his name was Dennis. When the battle was 
over, I saw that I was alone. The bad man from 
Austin had dissolved into space, and I never saw 
him again. 


Acquitted —The cartridge that struck the negro 
was a small Cold Derringer cartridge. One would 
think to look at it, that it would hardly go through a 
shingle. 

When the performance was over, I told the negro 
drivers to move on, as I wanted the body to lie in 
the same position that it fell in, until the inquest 
was over. I then started on my way. 

I happened to look back and saw that all the driv¬ 
ers were stopped around the dead negro. When they 
saw me, they broke for the brush, but I soon rounded 


140 


PERILOUS TRAILS OF TEXAS 


them up again and made them mount their wagons 
and move on. 

The coroner’s jury brought in a verdict of justi¬ 
fiable homicide. A year later another jury brought 
in a verdict of murder in the first degree but it 
amounted to nothing, for the final jury acquitted me 
without leaving the box. 

The Murder of Tom Shaw —Tom Shaw was a 
Corpus boy who was raised in the city. One day the 
sheriff here received a message from the sheriff of 
Live Oak County that he had arrested a Mexican 
called Martine who was wanted in Corpus, and that 
he would hold him at Los Olmos Ranch until a 
deputy arrived. 

The sheriff appointed Tom Shaw a deputy and 
sent him after Martine. When he arrived there, Mar- 
tine proposed that they all go to Corpus in his ambu¬ 
lance as he wanted to bring his wife and family with 
him. 

The sheriff of Live Oak County tried to persuade 
Shaw not to go in the ambulance, but Shaw stated 
that he would be in no danger as he was well 
acquainted with Martine. So Shaw tied his horse 
behind the ambulance and sat on the front seat with 
Martine, the family sitting on the rear seat. 

Within a few miles from Los Olmos, Martine 
asked Shaw to drive the ambulance while he rolled a 
cigarette. Pretending to be reaching for his tobacco 
pouch, he pulled out a large double edged dirk and 
drove it through Shaw’s back and out through his 
breast. He then stabbed him in a dozen places and 


MISCELLANEOUS ADVENTURES 


141 


threw him out of the ambulance. Then the murderer 
changed his route for Mexico and was missed ever 
afterwards at the polls. 

Murder of Lee Rabb —The Rabb ranch was situ¬ 
ated on Banquette Creek and was owned by Mrs. 
Rabb and her three sons, Dock, Frank, and Lee. 
Their cattle and horses were branded with the fam¬ 
ous bow and arrow brand. 

One night there was a Mexican dance at Petronilla 
and Lee Rabb had taken a Mexican girl to the enter¬ 
tainment. After dancing awhile the couple ordered a 
cup of coffee and while they were sitting drinking it, 
some one slipped up to an open window behind 
Lee and shot him in the back, killing him instantly. 
He then stole one of Lee’s horses and left. Some say 
that he was caught up with and killed on the banks of 
the Rio Grande and dumped into the river, but the 
know-it-alls say that he was never caught. However, 
he was missing at all the elections since. 

Death of Jim Walker —Another officer that we 
lost while in the performance of his duty, was Jim 
Walker. He arrested a Mexican by the name of Juan 
Palmoa at a ranch west of Corpus Christi and started 
to jail with him. The Mexican watched his chance 
and catching Walker off his guard, snatched his pistol 
out of the scabbard and shooting Walker to death, 
escaped. 


CHAPTER XIV 
My Later Life 

Refugees in Texas —On the 19th of June 1867, 
the Emperor Maximillian of Mexico was executed. 
His army was composed of Belgians, Austrians and 
French. Most of his garrisons on the border towns 
crossed the Rio Grande into the United States. Quite 
a number came to Corpus Christi. 

After their arrival here, the various nationalities 
paired off themselves. The Belgians located them¬ 
selves on the lot where the parsonage of the Metho¬ 
dist Church now stands. At that time, there were 
three or four concrete houses on the place which 
belonged to an old lady named McComb. The Bel¬ 
gians opened an oyster saloon and a restaurant in 
one of the houses, and in the other they made and 
sold a kind of home brew that they had learned 
to make in Belgium. 

At that time I was working with my uncle five 
miles from town. One of the Belgians came there 
and was employed by my uncle. His name was 
August Vandavella. We became great friends. We 
used to go to town on Sundays and eat dinner with 
his countrymen. 

A Tale of Waterloo —Among them was a man 
who had been badly wounded in the shoulder while 
14-2 


MY LATER LIFE 


143 


in Mexico. He was unable to work and on Sundays 
everyone would “chip in” and make up a purse to 
keep him during the week. Being a guest, I was more 
than glad to contribute my part also. 

The wounded man’s name was Louis Capella and 
he had held some office in Maximillian’s army, the 
rank of which I have forgotten. He seemed to ap¬ 
preciate what I had done for him and afterwards 
proved that he did by more than repaying my small 
favors. 

One Sunday, we were looking over some maga¬ 
zines and at one in particular that had a cut of the 
battlefield of Waterloo. The wounded man seemed 
to be very excited about the picture and as the crowd 
gathered around the table, he pointed out the differ¬ 
ent localities on the field. After the excitement had 
died down, I asked him if he had ever seen the battle¬ 
field, and he stated that he had played on it as a boy. 
It seemed that a relative of his owned the small farm 
there when the battle was fought and after it was 
over and the farmers returned to their homes, most 
of them took their drays and loaded them up with 
plunder from the field. This they stowed in their 
homes and cellars and afterwards sold it to tourists 
for a good price. 

He stated that the next year after the battle, his 
relative bought all the relics he could from the other 
farmers and opened a museum in Antwerp. He said 
to me, “If I ever get home, I’ll send you a souvenir 
of the battle.” 


144 PERILOUS TRAILS OF TEXAS 

Capella Keeps His Promise —In the meantime the 
yellow fever scourge swept over the city and a great 
many of the Belgians died. Among them was August 
Vandavella who was working at my uncle’s ranch. 
As I had not afterwards seen any of the others, I 
supposed that they had all died with the yellow 
fever. 

Nearly two years afterward a large schooner from 
New York came to the wharf here and the ship’s car¬ 
penter came ashore hunting me. He was a Dane by 
the name of Poulsin. When I heard that he was 
looking for me, I went aboard and found him. He 
told me that a friend of his in Antwerp had sent me 
a present by him. 

He then opened a chest and brought out a piece 
of exploded bomb-shell as large as my hand. There 
was a letter with it, but it was written in Belgian and 
I was unable to read it. On leaving the vessel, I al¬ 
most threw the present into the bay as I did not know 
its value and thought a joke had been played on me. 

The Origin of my Museum —I looked up a Bel¬ 
gian who was a bookkeeper for a local firm and asked 
him to translate the letter into English for me. It 
read as follows: 

“This is part of a bomb-shell fired by Napoleon’s 
artillery at Waterloo, June 18th, 1815. The bomb 
struck the Chateau Hougemont which was occupied 
by the Britsh troops. There it exploded. Presented by 
Louis Gapella, a native of Belgium, and a member of 
Maximillians army in Mexico in 1867.” 


MY LATER LIFE 


14-5 


About two years after he sent me the shell, he sent 
we a sword from Waterloo that had been used by 
one of Blucher’s dragoons in the battle, and after 
that he sent me a couple of pistols. 

These generous gifts awakened my interest in the 
collection of war relics and I began collecting souve¬ 
nirs from all the different wars and have been en¬ 
gaged in doing so ever since. In addition to war relics I 
have a great deal of native stuff from the Philippines, 
Borneo, Admiralty Isles and various other places. I 
also have a nice collection of Indian relics to which 
I have been adding all the time and have souvenirs 
from forty-eight different battles and sectors in 
France and Belgium. 

My Marriage and Family —In the year 1878, I 
was married to Mrs. Lelia Nias of Springfield, Mo., 
after which I engaged in the farming and dairy busi¬ 
ness. After a few years, I opened the Crescent Hotel 
in Corpus Christi, but after a year I gave up that 
business and returned to the farm on the same tract 
of land that Col. H. L. Kinney had presented to my 
father. In 1880 our son John, now deceased, was 
born, and in 1894, our daughter Maude. 

John had two children, Earl and John Marvin. 
Both boys have served a term in the United States 
Navy, previous to which they served in the National 
Guard. Both boys are now married and are living 
in Corpus Christi. My daughter Maude, after teach¬ 
ing for three years in the high schools of Texas, 
held various positions of responsibility in the busi- 


146 


PERILOUS TRAILS OF TEXAS 


ness world. She has had a university education and 
founded and conducted the Academy of Commerce 
and Languages in Mexico, chartered by Governor 
Trevino of Coahuila. She has now married and has 
entered the literary profession where she has gained 
considerable recognition, her poetry having appeared 
in numerous poetry journals throughout the United 
States, and in various anthologies, and her fiction 
having been published in several national magazines. 
She is the vice-president of the International Scien¬ 
tific Association. 

I have now retired from business having reached 
the age of eighty years, but am still interested in 
the collection of historical relics for my museum on 
the Shell Road, a museum which contains perhaps the 
largest private collection of its kind in the United 
States. 

For a comprehensive sketch of my museum I quote 
verbatim an article recently published in a local 
Corpus Christi paper, The South Texas News . 

Dunn's Museum Recreates the Days When Men Lived in 
Danger in the Corfus Christi Region —Wouldn’t it be wonder¬ 
ful if we moderns could travel back in time on some carpet of 
Bagdad to those thrilling days when the “vacqueros” roamed 
through the chaparral and the romantic rangers battled to hold 
our Southern boundary against the periodic depredations of the 
Mexican raiders? 

Very few people of South Texas realize that such a magic 
carpet is actually available to them. It is only necessary to step 
into Dunn’s historical museum on the Shell Road two miles west 
of Corpus Christi to find oneself instantly back in the past 
surrounded by the martial paraphernalia of the times when men 
followed Neitche’s advice and “lived dangerously.” 


MY LATER LIFE 


147 


J. B. Dunn is one of the oldest living pioneers of the Corpus 
Christi section. He has worked for over fifty years collecting 
relics and souvenirs of our historic past and preserving them for 
future generations. He has the largest private collection of this 
kind in Texas, perhaps in the United States. 

He specializes in the collection of firearms of all ages of 
the world and has souvenirs of all wars and all important battle¬ 
fields from the days of Napoleon down to and including the 
World War. His Indian collection is particularly interesting and 
he has even reached over into ancient Egypt and the Orient and 
into all the strange dark corners of the earth and brought back 
treasures impregnated with the fragrance of mysterious lands and 
races little known. 

Offers to Travel —He has received numerous substantial offers 
to travel with his museum or to locate in more populous sections. 
These offers he has steadfastly refused for he is of that stoic 
type to whom the glitter of gold is less brilliant than the lure 
of the home land. 

He himself was an actual participant in the thrilling battles 
of the early days. Some of the fire arms in his museum were 
captured with his own hands from noted bandits and murderers 
who once spread terror through the homes of peaceful rangers. 
Among these weapons might be mentioned the ornate pistol of 
Hypolita Tapia, Mexican bandit, who with his gang, robbed the 
store at Pensecal and committed four murders back in ’74. 

He also cherishes the Winchester that he carried while a mem¬ 
ber of Chamberlain’s company of rangers in 1870 and a Sharp’s 
carbine that he used in Wallace’s Company in 1874. 

Other Relics —Among other relics of particular interest to 
the people of Corpus Christi section, one might mention: 

A pistol found in the pocket of Col. Kinney when he was 
killed in a Mexican revolution where he had taken sides. This 
pistol was presented to Mr. Dunn by a brother-in-law of the 
Colonel. Kinney will be remembered as the founder of Corpus 
Christi and was a personal friend and associate of Mr. Dunn’s 
father to whom he presented one hundred acres of land west 
of Corpus Christi. Part of this land still constitutes Mr. Dunn’s 
homestead and is known as Kinney Park in honor of Corpus 
Christi’s adventurous founder. 


148 


PERILOUS TRAILS OF TEXAS 


An iron chain with which Mr. Murdoc of the Oso community 
was tied before being robbed and burned to death by Mexican 
bandits about the year 1873. 

An elaborate pistol belonging to Cortina, famous border 
bandit who afterwards became a general in the Mexican army 
and mayor of Matamoras. 

A Russian samovar washed off a ship on Padre Island. This 
huge brass vessel carries inscriptions and regal coats of arms 
showing that it has taken premiums in practically every capital 
in Europe. 

An ancient flint-lock belonging to Conrad Muely, pioneer of 
Corpus Christi. 

A naval sword belonging to an officer in the company of the 
Federal Commander, Captain Kittredge, surrendered when the 
latter was captured by Confederate troops at Flour Bluff. 

Numerous bomb-shells fired into Corpus Christi by the Federal 
troops during the two bombardments of the city in 1862. 

An ancient crane on which pioneers of this section used to hang 
their kettles. 

Hundreds of Indian arrowheads and several flint axes found 
in Nueces County. 

A musket and some cannon balls picked up on the site of 
General Taylor’s breastworks located near the present causeway. 

Foreign Relics —Among the hundreds of foreign relics which 
adorn the museum might be enumerated: 

An Oriental blunderbuss over two hundred years old, engraved 
with verses from the Koran. 

Part of an exploded shell from the battlefield of Waterloo, 
presented to Mr. Dunn by an officer in Maximillian’s army, 
whose parents lived on that historic spot. It might be interest¬ 
ing to note that this relic was the first souvenir in the collection 
and was the origin of Mr. Dunn’s interest in the acquisition 
of historical relics. 

Chinese matchlock, dated 1620. 

Chinese headman’s knife used in the Boxer Uprising. 

A coin of Caesar’s time. 

The hand of an Egyptian mummy. 

Over one hundred relics from the World War and souvenirs 
ranging from Alaska to the South Seas. 


MY LATER LIFE 


149 


Is Archeologist —Besides being a mere collector, Mr. Dunn, 
despite his eighty years, is tireless in the field of archeological 
excavation on the sites of the historical landmarks of Corpus 
Christi, and vicinity. Only recently his efforts were rewarded 
when he unearthed the skeleton of an Indian girl on which he 
found a magnificent necklace and a bracelet both of pearl shells. 
This skeleton was discovered, along with many others, on the 
site of what must have been an ancient burial ground, at the 
mouth of what is called the “blind Oso,” a branch of the Oso 
creek. 

A few years ago, while excavating on the site of an Indian 
battleground at the mouth of the Oso, Mr. Dunn dug up a silver- 
handled sword engraved with curious symbols. Numerous arch¬ 
eologists have disputed about the possible history of this weapon, 
as the symbols cannot be definitely associated with those of any 
known period. This sword with its delicate traceries constitutes 
one of the most unusual “finds” in the entire collection. 

Tree to the Public —The museum is open to the public freely 
at all times and undoubtedly offers a fertile field of research 
for those who would become more intimately acquainted with 
the colorful history of our great Southwest. 

Mr. Dunn’s name has been frequently mentioned in historical 
literature and books pertaining to the history of his times. A 
recent biography appearing in “The New Encyclopedia of 
Texas,” has this to say of his father and himself, “Had it not 
been for such men and their sons, the southern boundary of the 
United States would be much nearer the latitude of 36 than it 
it 39.” —Published in The South Texas News. 

Our Trip to Monterrey, Mexico —In November, 
1929, myself and my brother Matt, took a trip to 
Monterrey, Mexico. I felt that I would be able to 
secure numerous war relics as Monterrey has been a 
regular incubator for revolutions in which all kinds 
of war munitions were used. 

While there, we called on the American Consul, 
Mr. Fitzsimmons, and he kindly furnished a guide to 


150 


PERILOUS TRAILS OF TEXAS 


pilot us to all the places in the city, where we would 
be most likely to find any antiques, but it was like 
hunting a needle in a haystack. At one place which 
we visited, the proprietor said that he had but one 
rare relic for whose genuineness he could vouch. He 
then unlocked a drawer and taking it out, began to 
give me the history of it. It was a late model Smith 
and Wesson six-shot pistol. The man stated that it 
was the identical pistol that Cortez carried when he 
invaded Mexico and the same one with which he 
wounded Montezuma in a poker game in the city 
of Mexico. He offered it to me for the low price of 
$6.50, but I declined purchasing until I had more 
thoroughly familiarized myself with the history of 
Mexico. 

Matt Takes His Annual Bath —Our first trouble 
occurred when we visited the noted Topo Chico 
Springs. Nothing would do Matt but he must take a 
bath in them. I tried to reason with him but he would 
not listen to me. I told him that it was likely to cause 
complications between the two governments as the 
soil that was on his body was Texas soil and that one 
bloody war had been fought already and it would 
be a pity to bring on more strife when he could just 
as easily take a bath in Texas and leave her soil at 
home, but he had his own way. 

I Make an Offer for the Baptismal Fount —The 
next false move was made by me. While in the Bish¬ 
op’s Palace, which General Taylor stormed and took, 
the caretaker, while showing us around, came to a 


MY LATER LIFE 


151 


large Baptismal Fount hewn out of a solid rock. 
When he came within a few feet of it, he halted, 
removed his hat, and crossed himself a dozen times. 
He told us that over two thousand Aztecs had been 
baptized in this fount. When he had finished his 
sermon, I asked him if he would take fifty cents for 
it. 

He shook like he had the palsy and began swal¬ 
lowing and twitching as though he was going to have 
a fit. I told Matt that we had better move on which 
we did. 

We Hear a Bugle Call —Just as we boarded a 
street car, we heard a bugle sound and we were sure 
that it was a call to arms to apprehend us. However, 
when we got back to the Continental Hotel, we found 
ourselves perfectly safe and outside of the fear that 
someone might try to collect the $500.00 reward 
offered for Lieutenant Ferguson and myself after 
our long past trouble with the theatrical man at Lar- 
garto, we passed the time serenely enough. We found 
the Mexican people very polite and courteous on all 
occasions and although the city was wide open, with 
saloons on every block, we never, during the four 
days that we were there, saw a single drunk man. We 
may be superior to the Mexicans in some things, but 
in others they are superior to us. 

Captain Richard King —Captain King of Santa 
Gertrudis Ranch was one of the wealthiest men in 
this section. His herds grazed on thousands of acres 
of free domain. He and his partner Captain Kennedy 


152 


PERILOUS TRAILS OF TEXAS 


owned and operated one or more steam-boats on the 
Rio Grande. Captain King always stood for progress 
and his presence in this section was a public boon. 

In those days herds were driven overland to Kan¬ 
sas to market and King and Kennedy were perhaps 
the largest shippers in the state. During the war the 
enemy made a special raid from Brazos Santiago to 
his ranch home to capture him. The Captain was 
absent at the time but in the early morning, the 
prowlers saw a servant on the gallery and without a 
word of warning shot the man to death, thus show¬ 
ing their fear of the one they sought. 

Captain King’s life reads like a romance and if told 
to the letter, it would not be credited. 

Once when the Captain was in Corpus he hired a 
newly landed German to drive his carriage. When 
they left the city they drove to Petronilla Creek and 
stopped for lunch, on the near side of the stream. 
After an hour’s rest they started out again, and as 
they breasted the opposite bank, shots were fired from 
ambush, the German driver being instantly killed. 

With that the horses broke and ran but fortunately 
kept the road to the ranch. Four Mexicans then rode 
out of the bushes and gave a wild chase, taking care, 
however, to keep out of the range of the Captain’s 
Winchester. When they neared the ranch, the Mexi¬ 
cans wheeled and went just as fast in the other direc¬ 
tion. This was only one of Captain King’s hairbreadth 
escapes. 


MY LATER LIFE 


153 


We Revisit Old Scenes and are Pleasantly Enter¬ 
tained —In the year 1930 myself and my brother 
Matt, while riding across the country came in sight 
of the King Ranch. It was the first time I had seen it 
since 1875. 

It seemed to me as if the old ranch was beckon¬ 
ing to us to come on and I suggested to Matt that 
we go there. When we arrived at the ranch, we 
learned from a conversation with some of the em¬ 
ployees that Mr. Kleberg was confined to his bed 
and had been for some time. The man asked us if 
we would like to go in and see him and we said yes, 
if it would not cause any inconvenience. 

He asked us to wait a moment and very soon a 
young lady, a daughter of Mr. and Mrs. Kelberg, 
came downstairs and introduced herself to us saying 
that her father would be very pleased to see us. She 
escorted us upstairs to her father and mother and it 
was more like meeting relatives than friends. We 
talked over the old times when the captain was alive 
in the troublesome days of the ^O’s. 


154 


PERILOUS TRAILS OF TEXAS 


REQUIEM 

They say that Time, the Raider, makes 
Return for every gift he takes, 

Yet all the spoils within his chest 
Can scarce replace the Golden West. 

He gave us monsters wrought from steel, 
Can they awake the saddle’s feel, 

He gave us wings—what star-doomed crest 
Is beauteous as the Golden West? 

There’s nothing left to dare or fear, 

For man has crossed the last frontier; 

Ah, Space, push back your boundaries lest 
Our children have no Golden West. 

The answer comes—a weird refrain, 

A coyote howling on the plain; 

The dirge of man’s last warrior-quest, 

The requiem of the Golden West. 

Lilith Lorrain 


OFFICIAL TRAIL NAMES ADOPTED 


Old Trail Drivers' Association Decides “Eastern” and “Western” 
Proper Titles 

Future writers on Texas livestock industry history who may 
be careless in their names of trails have been put on notice by the 
Old Trail Drivers’ Association of Texas. The notice is in the 
form of a resolution adopted at the meeting of the old trail 
drivers here last week to the effect that the principal cattle trails 
from Texas to Kansas were known as the “eastern” and “west¬ 
ern” Texas-Kansas trails, that the Chisholm trail did not begin 
until after the Red River had been crossed and that any claims 
to the contrary have foundation only in the uncertain memories 
of men who paid no attention to trail names while they were 
moving cattle, or in the reports of men who never rode any 
trail outside the state. 

The resolution passed last week was prompted by the move¬ 
ment to mark different trails in the counties of Texas through 
which they pass. Several trail names have been proposed in differ¬ 
ent counties and to insure uniformity as well as to keep history 
straight, George W. Saunders, president of the Old Trail Driv¬ 
ers, went through the records he has kept since 1874. 

Since the first of the trail marking movements proposed indi¬ 
cating the route of Texas cattle from this state to Kansas and 
many persons have called this the “Chisholm trail,” Saunders 
made his first objective the records of old drivers who actually 
had been over the Kansas-Texas trail. 

“The Chisholm trail,” said Saunders, was marked from Abi¬ 
lene, Kansas, to Red River station and no further. It was started 
by Joe McCoy, builder of the stock-yards at Abilene and McCoy 
hired Chisholm to lay out the route. The trail was marked by 
furrows plowed with ox-team, across the plains and trees blazed 
through the timber. 

“At times so many herds would be on the trail they would 
spread out on either side and some herds went all the way to 

155 


156 


PERILOUS TRAILS OF TEXAS 


Abilene without being actually on the trail except occasionally. 

“There were hundreds of cattle trails in Texas, but all run¬ 
ning north led into either the eastern or western cattle trail and 
the eastern trail led to Red River station where the Chisholm 
trail began,” the western via Doan’s Crossing. 

Some of the letters from old trail drivers received by Saunders 
about the Chisholm trail, follow: 

J. W. White, a nephew of George Littlefield, said he made 
his first trip north in 1873. The herd went from Gonzales to 
Montague County, crossed Red River and “then it was under¬ 
stood we go on the Chisholm trail.” 

J. E. Pettus and W. W. Lott of Goliad say they went up the 
trail in 1872 and 1873, crossed the Red River and “both under¬ 
stood they intersected the Chisholm trail north of Red River 
in Indian Territory. 

J. M. Daugherty who drove his first herd in 1866 and con¬ 
tinued many years, is now 82 years old and living in Hudspeth 
County. “It is my understanding,” he says, “that the Chisholm 
trail started out from Red River station and ran to Abilene, 
Kansas.” 

George S. Johnson of Sabinal, went up the trail in 1872, 
1873 and 1874. “All the boys,” he writes, “said we were on 
the Chisholm trail after crossing Red River.” 

The late Charles Goodnight always said the Chisholm trail 
ran from Red River to Abilene, Kansas, but “It should have 
been called the Joe McCoy trail as McCoy hired Chisholm to 
mark the trail.” 

In Saunders’ book the “Old Trail Drivers of Texas,” quota¬ 
tions taken from letters of contributors include the following: 

C. F. Doan, 1874—“Went over Chisholm trail from Wichita, 
Kansas, to Fort Sill, Indian Territory.” 

A. F. Carvajal, 1872—“Traveled the Chisholm trail through 
the Indian Territory.” 

William Baxter Slaughter, 1871—“Traveled the old Chisholm 
trail from Red River Station.” 

W. M. Shannon—“Took the Chisholm trail at Red River 
station through the Indian Territory.” 

J. E. Folts, 1870—“Took the Chisholm trail near the Red 
River and passed across the Indian Territory.” 


MY LATER LIFE 


157 


J. N. Byer, 1869-70 — “Drove herds across at Red River 
station, passing east of Fort Sill. This was known as the Chis¬ 
holm trail.” 

William J. Bennett, 1872—“Drove cattle from Uvalde, 
crossed at Red River station. Then took the Chisholm trail out 
of the Indian Territory at Caldwell.” 

S. H. Wood, 1881—“Started the herd from the monument 
hill about 15 miles north of Red River Station on the old 
Chisholm trail which was known as the Eastern trail.” 

Richard Withers, 1869—“Went by Georgetown, Belton and 
Waco, where we swam the Brazos, crossed Red River and struck 
the Chisholm trail.” 

B. A. Barroum says he went over the Chisholm trail in 1870, 
*71 and ’72. It was understood we would strike the Chisholm 
trail when we crossed Red River. He also traveled the Western 
trails, crossed Red River at Doan’s Crossing. The two trails were 
known as the Eastern and Western-Northern Texas Cattle trails 
or Texas-Kansas trails. 

M. A. Withers went over the Chisholm trail in 1870, *71, 
and many other years. He says the Chisholm trail ran from Red 
River station to Abilene, Kansas. He also traveled the Western 
trail that crossed Red River at Doan’s Crossing. The two trails 
were known as the Eastern and the Western Texas-Northern or 
Kansas trails. Cattle that crossed at Doan’s Crossing never touched 
the Chisholm trail. 

Text of Resolution 

The resolution passed at the Old Trail Drivers’ Association 
meeting in San Antonio follows: 

Whereas, Since there are conflicting ideas about the location 
of the Chisholm trail, and, 

Whereas, There is now a movement to mark cattle trails 
through Texas, therefore be it 

Resolved, That it is the understanding of this Association in 
its seventeenth annual reunion, arrived at by research of its 
president George W. Saunders, and many of its oldest members, 
who drove the trail, that the Chisholm trail proper started at 
Red River station and extended north to Abilene, Kansas, and be 
it further 

Resolved, That the herds originating at all points in Texas 
drove north over the western or eastern Texas-Kansas cattle trail, 


158 


PERILOUS TRAILS OF TEXAS 


the eastern branch of which met the Chisholm trail at Red 
River station, and be it further 

Resolved, That this Association and its president do not wish 
to impose their will on any individual or county in marking of 
the trails, but offer this resolution, obtained by knowledge of 
men who first drove cattle north, merely in the interest that 
Texas history may be properly preserved to posterity. 

Bruce Roberts, 

W. H. Adams, 

R. F. Jennings, 
t Committee on Resolutions. 

Adoption of the resolution was moved by Col. Ike T. Pryor 
and it was unanimously carried. 


TRAIL HISTORIAN CORRECTS ERRORS 

Famous Chisholm Route Never Entered Texas , 

Says G. W. Saunders 

The famed Chisholm cattle trail, about which more has been 
written than any other southwestern trail, cannot be traced in 
Texas for the reason that it never existed in this state, accord¬ 
ing to George W. Saunders, who has spent more than fifty-five 
years on trail history. 

Furthermore while Chisholm blazed the trail which bore his 
name, Saunders says it should have been called the McCoy trail 
in honor of the man who had it blazed. 

“Texas,” said Saunders, “had four well-defined trails with 
many intesecting them. The four main trails were the Goodnight 
and Loving trail from Tom Green to Loving County. The trail 
from Cameron to Montague County, which was the first Texas 
Northern cattle trail. The next was the trail from Wilson County 
to Wilbarger County; next from Live Oak County to Kimble 
County where it intersected the trail from Wilson to Wilbarger. 

Emigration caused the two Western trails to leave the Eastern 
trails in 1876 and ’77. The Eastern trail was used for many years 
by middle and East Texas trail herds, which crossed Red River 
at Red River Station, went across Indian Territory and Kansas 
to Dodge City and to western markets and ranges. 



OFFICIAL TRAIL NAMES 


159 


Lots of cattle were shipped to Wichita Falls in the 80’s driven 
by the Doan Crossing. 

“In 1867, ’68, ’69 and ’70, lots of boys went to Abilene, 
Kansas, from Goliad, Bee, Live Oak, San Patricio, Refugio, 
Aransas, Gonzales and Karnes Counties, Texas. I mention those 
counties because they were in my range from 1859 to 1880. All 
those boys claimed they struck the Chisholm trail north of 
Red River. 

“I went from Goliad to Abilene, Kansas, in 1871 with cattle 
and came back over the same trail with 100 cowboys, 200 saddle 
horses and 10 chuck wagons. On our way back we met the herds, 
eight to ten per day, talked with many of the men and boys 
we knew, camped with a herd most every night and discussed 
the trails. I never heard the trail called the Chisholm trail south 
of Red River by anyone on that trip. 

“Some are now claiming that all cattle trails were designated 
as the Chiholm trail, but cannot tell who designated them. In 
early days all the Texas cattle trails were called the Kansas trail, 
the Northern trails and the Texas Longhorn cattle trails. 

“I assert that any cattle which crossed the Red River at Doan’s 
Crossing never touched the Chisholm trail as Red River station 
was over 100 miles east of Doan’s Crossing and Abilene, Kansas, 
was over 100 miles east of Dodge City. 

“The Goodnight and Loving trail was blazed by Goodnight 
and Loving in 1867. They bought the herd from John Chism 
(not Chisholm) on the Concho that they blazed this trail with. 
Chism drove lots of cattle over that trail later when he estab¬ 
lished his New Mexico ranch. 

Routes of Tour Trails 

“I have just received from Fayette Tankersley of Mertzon, 
Texas, a list of the counties through which the Goodnight and 
Loving trail passed from the Concho River to the New Mexico 
line. These counties were not organized when the trail was 
blazed, but they are now Tom Green, Iron Reagan, Upton, 
Crane, Ward, Winkler and Loving. 

“The counties from Cameron to Montague, the eastern trail 
passed through were Cameron, Willacy, Hidalgo, Brooks, Kenedy, 
Kleberg, Nueces, Jim Wells, San Patricio, Live Oak, Bee, Goliad, 
Karnes, Wilson, Gonzales, Guadalupe, Caldwell, Hays, Travis, 


160 


PERILOUS TRAILS OF TEXAS 


Williamson, Bell, Coryell, McLennan, Bosque, Hill, Johnson, 
Tarrant, Denton, Wise, Cooke and Montague. 

“The trail from Wilson to Wilbarger passed through the 
counties that now are Wilson, Bexar, Kendall, Kerr, Gillespie, 
Kimble, Menard, Concho, McCullough, Coleman, Callahan, 
Shackelford, Throckmorton, Baylor and Wilbarger. 

“The trail from Live Oak to Kimble went through what are 
now the counties of Live Oak, McMullen, LaSalle, Dimmitt, 
Zavala, Uvalde, Real, Edwards and Kimble, where it joined the 
first Western trail. I have traveled all the four main Texas trails 
except the Goodnight and Loving and think I am correct in all 
my claims. If proven otherwise I shall submit to corrections, but 
will not listen to anyone using borrowed thunder. If my 5 5 years 
research work is wrong I want to know it. I have been doing 
research work since 1874, collecting for preservation the true 
Texas history of the cattle industry including the trail-driving 
period. My object is to keep Texas history straight. 

“ I am only one out of 40,000 trail drivers who have taken up 
this work as a side issue from my own business. I have investi¬ 
gated many reports and found them false. I gathered over 300 
sketches for my book, ‘The Trail Drivers of Texas,’ inter¬ 
viewed all these trailers and many others. I found some calling 
all the trails Chisholm trails, but in each case, they did not know 
why. The fact that the Chisholm trail connected with a Texas 
trail probably accounts for the error. 

“Some of the writers of sketches in my book say they went 
from different points in Texas over the Chisholm trail. That 
was a fact, but they neglected to state where they intersected the 
Chisholm trail. 

Charles Goodnight claims 250,000 cattle went over the Good¬ 
night and Loving trail. It is safe to say, that 10,000,000 of the 
11,000,000 horses and cattle that went to northern markets 
during the trail-driving period, crossed Red River at Red River 
Station and at Doan’s Crossing. I would say about 4,000,000 at 
Red River Station and 6,000,000 at Doan’s Crossing, as Doan’s 
Crossing was used many years longer than Red River Station. 

Jesse Chisholm was a half breed Cherokee Indian. He was a 
guide and scout in the Indian Territory, Kansas and Colorado for 
our government before and during the Civil War. His knowl¬ 
edge of that country caused McCoy to employ him to mark this 


OFFICIAL TRAIL NAMES 


161 


trail. He died in 1868. His remains were removed last year, 
I have forgotten where to. I made a trip to Dallas, McKinney, 
Sherman, Denison and Gainesville in 1877, tracing a report that 
Jesse Chisholm bought lots of cattle in that section and drove 
them over the trail. I failed to find anyone that had ever heard 
of him driving cattle. Tuck Hill of McKinney, one of Quan- 
trelPs men said he knew Chisholm never drove cattle out of 
Texas, but that John Chisum had driven many thousand cattle 
from Cook and adjoining counties to Jim Ned and Concho 
River in 1866, ’67 and ’68, later drove them over the Goodnight 
and Loving trail to his New Mexico ranch. 

No one is blamed for the confusion in the correct names of the 
northern cattle trails. All the early trail drivers from the eastern 
trail traveled the Chisholm trail from Red River to Abilene, 
Kansas. It was natural for them to say when they arrived home. 
“I have been to Kansas over the Chisholm trail.” That name 
became famous and became embedded in the minds of the public, 
the press, magazine and fiction writers and it has been a job for 
me to get the facts before the public and have the inscriptions 
on all trail markers to read, “The Texas Longhorn Northern 
Trail.” The picture of a longhorn steer head on each marker 
represents cattle. All cattle trails leading from the Kansas mar¬ 
kets to the northwestern range were called, “The Texas Cattle 
Trails.” They were many and led to 16 states and territories, 
some going as far as Utah, California and to the Black Foot 
Indian reservation in North Dakota near the Canadian line. 

The eastern trail was used until 1876 by South Texas cattle. 
Immigration forced them west and all southern cattle left the 
eastern trail in Wilson County going via San Antonio to Doan’s 
Crossing, 100 miles west of Red River Station on the eastern 
trail. Later cattle left the eastern trail in Live Oak County, 
intersecting the western trail in Kimble County, making two 
western trails and one eastern northern cattle trail and the Good¬ 
night and Loving trail making four definied cattle trails in Texas 
that 10,000,000 cattle and 1,000,000 horses passed over from 
1866 to 1895, bringing $250,000,000 back to Texas which 
started the development of Texas, induced capital and immigra¬ 
tion, saved Texas from bankruptcy and brought about the pros¬ 
perity we all enjoy today. Rah, rah, for the part played by the 
Old Trail Drivers for those wonderful achievements. 


162 


PERILOUS TRAILS OF TEXAS 


After 1876 some of the cattle east of the San Anonio River 
used the eastern trail, crossed Red River at Red River Station 
and drove across Oklahoma and Kansas to Dodge City and other 
markets and ranges. Some of them crossed the eastern trail and 
intersected the western trail at the nearest point possible. Some 
of them were shipped from different points in Texas by rail¬ 
road all the way up from Taylor to Denison. The western trail 
was used until 1895, but not many cattle were driven before 
1870 and not many after 1890. I do not claim all northern 
cattle crossed Red River at Red River Station and Doan’s Cross¬ 
ing. I know quite a lot of cattle crossed at Quanah and at the 
mouth of the Peas River and other points. After the trail driving 
stopped shipping Texas cattle to Oklahoma and Kansas, grass 
commenced and was a big business for many years. From 100,- 
000 to 200,000 still go there from Texas every year. 

I will furnish the county judges of each county those four 
trails passed through, a Texas map with those four trails marked, 
showing their correct route. My 1932 calendar will be the same 
kind of map. 

W. E. Long, manager of the Chamber of Commerce of Aus¬ 
tin, Texas, J. Frank Dobie and others are preparing a suitable 
marker to be placed on the highways in each county these trails 
pass through. They may decide on one or several in each county. 
It is understood each county will pay for the marker or markers 
and the highway department put them up. The first marker in the 
state was dedicated and received by the Old Trail Drivers Asso¬ 
ciation at Doan’s Crossing on Red River in Wilbarger County on 
October the 21st, 1931. This marker was erected by Wilbarger 
County and outside friends including Will Rogers and G. W. 
Saunders. P. P. Ackley of Elk City, Oklahoma, donated $1,000 
to it and erected a small marker near Vernon in Wilbarger 
County at his expense near his old ranch. We hope for and 
expect liberal co-operation. 

I was over twenty years collecting sketches and photos of old 
trail drivers for my book. It contains 1,030 pages. It is the only 
true history of the trail driving period. Will Rogers says, “It’s 
not a story, it’s just a collection of experiences, written by the 
men themselves, over three hundred of them, of their different 
experiences in going up the trail. It’s the most unique thing ever 
published. It shows these old timers’ pictures.” 


OFFICIAL TRAIL NAMES 


163 


Emerson Hough, author of “North of 36” says of my book 
on page 56 of his book, “These sketches are human documents, 
the author wishes to acknowledge obligations to this work, which 
he has used almost literally in many passages for the sake of 
known accuracy.” He got the first copy after it came off the press. 
I have reduced the price of my book from $5.00 to $3.50. It 
should be in every library and school in the country and the 
homes of lovers of pioneer life. I will fill all orders promptly 
postpaid. 

This book would be a fine Christmas present to the young 
people of our country to give them an idea of the pioneer’s 
struggle to help win Texas from the savages and cause our vast 
territory to become inhabited by a happy and prosperous people. 

These articles have been carefully prepared, but I am human 
and there may be some errors and mistakes, if so I am subject 
to correction. 

Geo. W. Saunders, 

President Old Trail Drivers ’ Association . 




























































































































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